This is a work of fiction, so if you think any of the characters are familiar, I can assure you that you are mistaken. There are scenes concerning gay sex, with supposed minors: if this will offend you, or if where you live it is illegal for you to read it - please read no further. If this is not the case - enjoy.
I got out from work at around 3pm. For nearly two weeks now I had been sharing my flat with two nine year olds twins; at least I had at night. During the day they were both plaster mannequins. At night they were both beautiful young boys. The fact that one of them was really a hundred and thirty years old made them not a whit less gorgeous. They both loved to sleep with me at night - well we always got round to sleeping eventually - and they both loved to have me lick their lovely toes.
"Jonah! How's it going ?" I turned to find my brother, Jethro, following me across the square. I had not seen any of my family for months, and Jethro had always been fond of me - and vice versa. "Hi bro!", I responded, "How ya keeping?" All right so perhaps one of us should have been answering questions instead of both asking them - but who cares? "Not so bad big brother. I was hoping to find you here. I was on my way to the office, but it looks like I only just caught you." Jethro seldom asked favours so I was intrigued. "Early finish on Fridays," I said, "What appears to be the problem?" "No no no no! No problem. Just a small favour." "How small?" I asked warily. "Oh, about five foot three, with brown hair and eyes, and fifteen years old", he replied. Seeing the confusion on my face (obviously the effect he wanted) he went on, "Marion and me are off to Paris for the weekend,and we wondered if Peter could stay with you. He's used to sleeping on the couch, and you know how well you always get on with him. He's got a sleeping bag." All sorts of problems formed in my mind, but I didn't see how I could refuse. Besides it was true that Peter and I had always liked each other. I was clearly his favourite uncle even if it was two years since I last saw him. Jethro had no intention of giving me the choice anyway. "I'll drop him off on the way to the airport", he announced as he descended into the depths of the tube station.
I got home with just time to tidy up. The mannequins would obviously not come to life with somebody else in the flat, but I felt that I was letting them down. I leaned both dummies against the wall. I had only time to move the dust around a bit before the door bell rang. Jethro's description of my nephew was right as far as it went, but he never mentioned the boyish face that could melt hearts - and certainly did mine. Nor did he mention the depth in those shining brown eyes, the exactly right amount of colour in the cheeks,the perfect proportion of every part of his body, the perfectly formed young hands, nor the cute bum inside those tight jeans. His full lips were parted in a delighted smile of greeting. "Hi, uncle Jonah", he threw over his shoulder as he breezed into my living room, "I'm glad I'm staying with you this weekend". I was almost speechless. Almost. "Come in and make yourself at home Peter. It's good to see you." I responded, " there's some cans of Coke in the fridge if you're thirsty." There was a lot of catching up to do. The schoolkid of thirteen I had last seen was now a full-blown teenager - and what a dish. Now that was wrong. I should never have been harbouring thoughts like that. Peter was my nephew; was under my care and protection; and his parents trusted me. Peter trusted me. What would he say if I turned out to be a dirty old man of thirty. I glanced down. He had kicked off his shoes and I found myself wondering what the feet looked like in those grey socks. Toes not too long perhaps, rounded heels with a nice Achilles tendon. The arches looked high but......Stop it! Stop it right there! I forced myself to look away and converse with Peter . I wanted to know about his school life, his friends - male and female, his hobbies. Yes Peter trusted, and was glad to talk about himself. We whiled away the evening. He preferred to play cards rather than watch television. He had brought a book to read at bedtime - "Just Jennings". I thought Anthony Buckridge was maybe a little old fashioned for modern kids, and maybe Peter a little too old, but what the heck. Bedtime soon came. Peter changed into his pyjamas (?) while I made cocoa so I got a look at those lovely feet after all. I was not dissapointed. He settled on the sofa, tucked into his sleeping bag. I dissappeared into my own bedroom, undressed and turned in for the night. I was soon asleep and dreams soon came. I was tucked between two lovely boys, one of whom was slowly wanking me off. The feeling grew more and more intense. Gradually I came wide awake. Anthony was sucking on my nipples and I could feel somebody sucking on my toes. Looking down I recognised Andrew's rich pink soles. So who was jacking me off?
"Peter!" I exclaimed in horror. Turning to my left side I saw that it was indeed the lovely boy himself. The wanking stopped as Peter's face assumed the expression of one caught with his fingers in the jam. Tears formed as he struggled to form words. Eventually he succeded . "A...a.....anthony said it would be OK.", he sobbed, "He....he....he s..said you'd like it" I took him in my arms and hugged him close. "I'm s...s...so s..sorry", he sobbed, " I f...feel so ashamed. You won't t...t...tell my Mum and Dad?" Gently I kissed him on those full, rosy lips. "It's all right Peter", I said gently, "go on doing it. It was lovely" Very gently now I had started rubbing his crotch. I knew that was wrong but I had to do it. I had to do it to assure him that he had not done wrong. I turned my head the other way. Anthony lay facing me with the expression of the feline who has just acquired the top of the milk. I tried to look stern. "That could have gone horribly wrong you know", I whispered. He shook his head. I still sometimes forgot I wasn't talking to a nine year old. "How did you know?" I asked in an even lower whisper. He whispered back, "I saw Andrew move. neither of us can come to life if there is someone there who can't love us." I kissed him. In fact I KISSED him. We dueled with our tongues for what semed like an age before either of us came up for air. Then I bent down to lick Andrew's sexy soles. It was the opportunity Anthony had been waiting for. Above my head he leaned over and whispered to Peter. I finished sucking Andrew's toes and came back up to the surface. "Now!" shouted Anthony. Two boys dived out of bed. I only had time to register that both were naked- and that Peter sported a crop of curly pubes around a cock that was quite creditable for a boy at five foot three - when they both dived back in again - head first. Four bare feet were pressed to my face, pinning my head to the pillow. One of the boys had started wanking me again as they competed to insert their toes in my mouth. Peter's toes were slightly podgy, very soft, and very salty. I was in paradise. It just could't get any better. I had started to squirt and somebody was swallowing my cum like it was lemonade. I just noticed that Andrew had got out of bed and was now above my head and sitting on the headboard. His feet rested on my forehead as he massaged my temples with his toes. Three beautiful boys now rested their bare feet on my face. This was going to be some weekend.