How I got a Regular Baby-Sitting Gig

 I recall a time when I was 13. I was asked to baby sit the son of a friend of family, he was probs still in grade school and blond with hazel green eyes if you're wondering. At the time I got there, he was in the bathroom taking a shower. After some last minute instructions, the parents left. They said they would be back at 11 o' clock or so.

  About 5 min later he came to the living room wearing just a towel. I didn't think much of it, because he did finish taking a shower. We were watching a DVD on tv when I noticed out of the corner of my eye he was playing with his dick. 

    He noticed me looking, and casually said, "You wanna suck it?"

  I got an instant stiffie, He noticed. He stood in front of me on the couch we were sitting on, and stooped so his dick was pressing against my lips. I parted my lips and let him in. He put his hands around the back of my head and started pumping in and out of my mouth. This went on for 10 min. Or so, then I felt his dick start twitching in my mouth, then his knees buckled. I had to hold on to him tight so he wouldn't fall.

 After he regained his senses, he asked me if I could be his permanent baby sitter. I said definitely.
I babysat him for another 3 years, and was lucky enough to get to taste his very first ejaculation when that time came around.

Chris W. 


Cade's Special Request

I recently encountered this story which I had written a couple of years ago about an experience from my teens. I was a shy kid and had no special buddies at that time. This story is about a night that haunted me for many years. Read-on and comment if you found a similar closure.

 When I was a mid teen, there was a kid who lived a couple of houses down the street from me but we never really played together because Cade was a couple years younger than me. He was an average kid with brown eyes, and sandy blonde hair -a typical boys cut, neat and well groomed by his parents presumed desire for order. He wore expertly chosen, well fit clothes. Being an only child, he probably had clothes bought regularly as he grew a centimeter or two. 


 One night his parents had a Date night and went out, so my Mom babysat him at our house. I let him come in my room some because I did not have any friends over, and I was kinda bored. He was a polite kid and we got on pretty good. I showed him some of my model cars, collectibles and then I read some Harry Potter to him. I was surprised how well he knew many of the parts. Often he would get all big-eyed and announce the next event to occur. I didn’t mind because I had read it several times myself. It was cute though that he liked me reading to him, and I rather enjoyed it, by changing my voice for different characters. That made him smile and he stared at me imagining I was a different person each time I used a special voice.


 Mom came-in prematurely interrupting the story. She collected Cade to get in a bath. I busied myself reading more, until I actually needed to use the restroom.  I decided it was okay since the door was not shut. I stepped in, excused myself that I needed to pee. Cade was alone in the tub, amused with a few toys and a fresh heap of bubbles everywhere. I did my business, and left. Within moments, Cade was coming down the hall completely naked, calling to me. I saw him there partly wet and in his glory, he asked if he could sleep with me until his parents came to get him. I was a little shocked by his body display. I tried to act normal and said,

“Yeah sure, I guess so.”


 By this time my Mom appeared with a towel, turned him round back to the bathroom for his dry-off and getting dressed.


 All through growing up, I had seen boys nude before loads of times in gym class and in the pool change rooms, various friends getting dressed after our baths, But in this few moments, it seemed that I was treated to something rare and unusually interesting. I walked back to my room to review what I had just seen. There was a cloud of thoughts pummeling my brain. Sure he was a bit younger than me, and all of his parts were immature. However there was something kind of cute and subtle. Maybe I had seen the perfect shape of young maleness, I recalled a roundness of his bottom when he turned away from me. I got a little amused, how pert the little dickie bounced as he bounded after me. Like me, he was indeed circumcised, which spoke a bit more of his parents desire for grooming. Somehow it afforded just a measure of perfection. I had surveyed his slightly defined musculature beneath soft skin. In the shadows of our hallway he was studded by water droplets on his milky skin. These instantaneous snapshots fused to a glowing image in my mind of that treasured moment.

 Finally I pondered the reason for his naked dash. He wanted or needed to ask permission to sleep with me. Something about me brought him a sense of security and comfort. This special little guy wanted to lay with me, as he would fall asleep. He had no siblings, so I felt that he wanted the chance to pretend he had a big Bubby to watch over him as he slept.


 Quickly I prepared for bed in a pair of Boxers and a white t-shirt. It was an hour or more early for my own bedtime, but I did not want to disappoint my new little mate.


 I was in a curious daze as he laid there next to me. In a few minutes he was breathing deep and slow, he was asleep. I huddled close to assure he was warm and safe.

He was suited up in Pajamas all fresh and clean. I sniffed close to his hair which gave way and lifted lightly to my nostrils. It was the bouquet of a boy’s day, telling of his high activity and steeped in the aroma of warm sunshine and full-on play. I timidly dropped my nose to sample the delicate softness of his neck and the frolicking perfume of bath-time bubbles. It was an unusual moment for me, I was lost in some dream, but it was all quite real. I was enthralled by this mystery, snared for some unknown reason by this little person. He was something fine and near perfect. I thought again of the unashamed display of his body in the hallway earlier. I dared a slight bit of naughtiness, I slid my hand under the sheets and sought towards the waste-band of his PJ’s…… then the Undies! I languished in the softness of his underbelly and pausing to relish this as a treat. At this threatening tense flagrance, my timidity of carelessness sent tremors through the etirity of me. My quaking guilt spoke directly to my inner convictions. I clearly knew he should be preserved and honored. The culminating intensity of nervousness suppressed by my invading hand. I elected to retreat. He never moved a muscle or seemed to be the least bit awakened.


 I turned about, permeated by that sudden desire, but pleased of a self chosen defeat.

He was fascinating and fine, I was certain, my harrowed mind wanted him to stay just like that….Pure and clean. I defended my errant hand for a bit, but fell asleep and never resolved the puzzling end of that day.


 Now many years later, I realized how much I learned about my weakness, and indeed my strength even at 15.






A group of us had dinner last night at a local restaurant. Our waiter was a high school dude, tall and so skinny that you wondered how his pants stayed on. He was polite, chatty, and properly attired in the restaurant's code of jeans, white shirt and black bow-tie. And one thing more: the poor kid was also very dramatic in every move he made, so painfully swishy that you felt sorry for him.

As he sashayed away from our table after taking the order, one of my friends watched his retreating rear end and said, "Dude walks like he's got a corncob up his ass!"

We couldn't quit laughing. Hope that comment gives you a grin also.



Booty Call on the PA

This one is a little off of our format, but I reckon it explores the curiosity young guys have.

When I was 13 a friend and I were in the grocery store, his parents were shopping and we were trailing way behind. On the loudspeaker we heard,
"Amy to the meat section, Amy to the meat section".

My friend told me that when they say that over the loudspeaker it is really calling the person to come in the back to have sex. He said he knew because his brother worked at a store and told him that the meat section was secret code for having sex in the back of the store where nobody could see. I believed it and walked around that store believing that Amy was back there in the "meat section"
having sex.

I always listened out for any reference to meat over the loudspeaker whenever I was in the store. I believed this for a very long time and always became aroused thinking that in the boring grocery store the employees were publicly calling each other for sex.



Full Package Cashier

Reading this story on OOTS4U Reminds me of something, I just had that awkwardness recently.

 I was checking out a big order at a store and the cashier was a young, thin teen with jeans on and he was standing on an elevated platform. The crotch of his jeans had an amazing bulge and I couldn't help but stare at it wondering if he was extremely well hung for his age or maybe he had a partial erection going on.

I found myself awkwardly worried that he'd notice I was staring at his package the whole time he was checking me out.



The Mini Nudie Neighbor

Apparently since it is summer-time the little tyke across the street from me is enjoying a clothing optional indulgence. Several days I have seen him wandering the front yard completely nude. The first time was with Dad and Uncle mending the fence and we have little Manny Be-bopping around the yard toting tools for the men. Nobody paid any mind to the fact he was au natural, and working without suitable PPE, or even a tool belt. A safety supervisor sure would have shut that job down.

The most recent exposure was Dad and Uncle again out front, but this time working on a car. Well here is the little streaker again, but now he is sporting his fully tanned body head to toe. I've seen a plastic wading pool in the back yard, but I can't gain a convincing evaluation as to why he is nude in full public view so regularly.

He is small enough that he certainly feels not one shred of modesty standing in the way of his commando-style freedom. I have a slight estimation it might be Mom's method during potty training, leaving him nude to get him used to being free of a diaper. Then it is certainly obvious if he does his business anywhere. I thought most Mom's used trainers, Pull-ups or plain undies, but I reckon this Mom is all about economy, and practicality. I would be curious if the little mister takes a liking to the freedom, and it becomes a habit later on as he gets a bit bigger. This could get interesting......



Nice to Meet You!

A bit of interesting scientific observation crossed my monitor recently.

Among crested black macaques (a monkey species found on an Indonesian island) males typically greet one another by mutually grasping each other's penis. In addition, a penis-grab seems to be a way of testing relationships, setting up alliances and defusing conflicts.

The researcher postulated that this may have been normal behavior among early humanoids.

Not the sort of thing everybody wants to know. Imagine the flak: "Gays are throwbacks to monkeys," but reading it made me laugh. Instead of shaking hands they shake dicks.

Long Time Reader

Okay guys, this reader and I have already compared our thoughts on this humorous topic, what's your take?



What a Dispicable Fabric!!

Today while at lunch with a co-worker in a chain restaurant. Being that it is summer you see a variety of patrons. Instead of business casual working class patrons getting a slight respite from the daily grind. Lunch is now dotted with Mom's or Dad's corralling the kiddos to fuel up between camps and activities to keep them progressing forward on their journey to model citizens, or at least keeping them active away from video game screens.

Today I saw the usual 5-8 year olds bopping under Mom's loving arms, and challenging her will to force some veggies down their throats instead of their typical preferred carb and protein mainstay. Then I often delight in seeing an occasional prima donna Mom in Yoga pants with collagen lips who feints her sugar-sweet commands as control, shaking her diamond adorned fingers at said youngster. Who is of course paying little attention to her. You see, generally these trophy wives of successful earners have the most unruly kids, who competently win-over princess- Mom, and then generally junior gets extra cheese on his burger, with a giant soda to slurp while barely eating 3 bites of the said nutrition laid before them.

But enough despite for middle-class suburbia and it's well-meaning populous. Today while eating my taco salad, I looked up to see a young fellow accompanied by a slightly larger specimen of Yoga Mom. They are positioned at the self serve drink station at the exact time that I need to rise from my seat, and refill my own water cup.

Approaching towards them from my table, I see this young fellow is dark blonde. He is wearing a blue t-shirt with some print which I paid no attention to. But as I rounded the dining area partition, I was delighted at my choice to refill at this juncture. I had an opportunity to observe something quite unique for this setting. It was predicated in the form of his shorts and the material of which they were constructed. He was wearing competitive swimmers trunks. I guess you might simulate them to Speedos. However these were designed with an inseam of about 6-8 inches, reaching downward to his knees. In fact they fit a bit loose there. I would say they were not that tight at all. However due to a certain visible bump around the groin area, I would guess the material must be very light.

Now,  I was 12 once, and I can distinctly remember how much was inside my shorts. Indeed this young fellow was likely bearing no exceptional gift in that area, however I blame that fabric which recklessly allowed a "Head-em Up, Move-em out" attitude for over-exposing his boy parts. This confounded failure of junk control garnered an effect of freedom to one of nature's proudest forms resting delicately suppressed inside there.

 Although his clothing was in place doing it's meager duty to cover and contain. It could be noted that with the slightest inspection you might determine that resting above a pair of ovoid supports, there was a projecting point that the lazy cloth succumbed to.....allowing a
display of young maleness.

I awaited the pair (Mom and Son) to complete their drink formulation as I investigated this unruly cloth. How evil it was to allow such a dastardly observation by anyone in public.

 Certainly there should be no blame assigned to this tender fellow who obviously had spent his  morning innocently exercising at swim class in these very trunks. Then prompted by a huge hunger, he and Mom chose to re-charge on Burritos, and chips. There was never a thought of changing to other shorts, he was hungry, and he needed to be fed before his next activity commenced. Obviously they proceeded to a family friendly spot, and placed an order to-go.

 I suggest this technologically advanced fabric, was designed sheerly for competition, and had surely done it's duty allowing this lad to slip confidently through the waters of summer swim team training, and perhaps he was the kid leading the pack all the while. So proud he must be that this very trunk in it's delicate balance of securing modesty, yet yielding the full thrusting power of his swimming prowess was likely a suitable pairing for both boy and garment at the peak of competition. Yet somehow when placed in a public setting, there was a departure from the norm. An obvious bulge was there, and dammit yeah you couldn't miss it. I didn't, but so confused I am about it.

In the end, I was surprised that modesty was disregarded. Perhaps this was the first summer that certain aspects of his maleness had come to prominence. So maybe there had been little or no consideration by either Mom or Boy about his outward appearance. In some societies this is not a concern at all, yet in the US, it seems there is a profound fear of exhibiting apparent maleness.  In A bold assertion I might propose,
"I''m NOT sorry, it's a part of nature, so lets all accept it...right?."

Can anyone help explain? Is it the Cloth, or Society condemning what the cloth reveals?



A Boy Can't Hide Some Things

I saw a young school aged boy around 14 disembark a bus.    It was around school finishing time, so he must have been on his way home. As he got off I noticed him trying with one hand to pull his shirt down over his crotch. However his shirt was not long enough, so his attempts were in vain. In his other hand he held his school bag in front of him. He was walking rather quickly, seemingly in a hurry to get home and it was quite amusing watching him tug at his shirt whilst desperately trying to hide his obvious excitement. I've no doubt, as soon as he reached home he threw down his bag and ran into his bedroom for some "special time".


No Burgers for Shirtless Boys

A few days ago, I was in a local eating establishment. It is a non-franchised burger joint, a mom and pop spot if you will. It is close enough to a local pool and seeing as school is out and the pool is open, a lot of kids are passing through.

On that day two shirtless black boys I'm guessing 10 and 13, one lighter skinned (the 10ish year old) and one dark skinned (the 13 year old) came into the restaurant. They were two  attractive young guys, the younger one listened intently whenever the older boy spoke. The older boy did not reject the younger boy when he came to him and put his arm around his shoulder. I got a cousin vibe maybe even brothers but either way they were extremely kind to each other, and it caught my attention that they were so adorably fond of each other. The owner came out and told them that they needed to put on shirts before they could order. They had the best little muscular chests and abs, I have ever seen but I guess that offended her. I kid you not The 10 year old had his shorts drooping down past the V line where the hair will eventually grow. The boys complied,  the youngest boy went bopping outside to the bikes they were riding and brought in a pair of shirts. The boys tugged their shirts over their heads, ordered, got their drinks and left.

One might think the owner was racist for telling those two handsome black boys to put on their shirts. But 15 minutes after the black kids had  left (and when my food finally came),  two white boys came in shirtless like the other pair. They were both about 12 years old. I got the vibe that they were classmates or neighbors. They were both thin, one was obviously bleached blonde but it looked nice, the other a natural blonde. They were shirtless and wearing flip flops, towels draped across their necks whereas the black kids were dry as a bone and probably on their way to the pool, but these white kids were still wet and were coming back from the pool, and probably very hungry from playing in the pool for hours.

The owner once again came out and told them that if they did not put on shirts that they had to leave. The two boys did not have any shirts and had to leave. My point is that four cute boys, two sets of two came in shirtless and the owner set out to chase them away. If I owned that restaurant any boys shirtless, or fully dressed would get served. Perhaps sometimes kids might get free drinks and that little black boy with the loose trunks showing off that V and more would have gotten a free hamburger and fries.



Stall Peeping

Hi, I am err.. New to the blog, but liked the concept and had some stories to share of my own. So, here is this one.

   When I was around 10 I went to a restaurant with my family where I had an encounter with a boy. I had gone to the bathroom and was sitting on the toilet and was just getting up when i noticed a boy around 7 years old peeping in through the crack between the door and bathroom stall. He had a light olive skin-tone, dark eyes and black hair in a bowl cut common among younger kids. His mouth was agape as he looked on in what I could only describe as amazed curiosity.
   We were making eye contact the whole time after I noticed him but he only continued to look on with his mouth open in curiosity. He also gazed on to my privates and seemed to smile; he knew that what he was doing was naughty but couldn't help but take a look. I didn't know how to react, i just stared at him back throughout the encounter, which was brief because after locking eyes for about 10 seconds an adult man walked in interrupting his peeping adventure.
    "What are you doing!" Shouted what I assume to have been the boy's dad in an enraged tone. "Nothing!" He quickly responded, the guilt and embarrassment evident in his voice. "Get over here... come on!"
 The boy quickly fled the bathroom followed by a stern scolding by the man. I also quickly wrapped up my business in the bathroom and returned to my table, startled by the whole encounter.
Before leaving I caught a glimpse of the boy at his table, looking rather unhappy. To this day I wonder if getting caught and embarrassed (and probably harshly punished) was worth it for this curious boy, and if his parent's punishment dissuaded him from pursuing his curiosities. 



Big Truck - Small Dinger

  About boys and pickups. There's a boy in our neighborhood that is definitely on the short side (he's in the drum line of the high school band, and considerably shorter than anybody else in that section). 
 When he started driving he picked out a huge red Ram pickup for himself.  You've probably seen the type, giant tires, with a chrome exhaust pipe sized to bellow industrial plumes of soot upon command. There is doubt if he is able to navigate any drive-thru's for a quick burger, and shake, due to the over-all height of his "Rig". 

 My partner and I speculated that the spectacular vehicle was all manifested in compensation for being short. We also assume it might be an overt display of machismo, to diminish the probable small dork in his jeans. But of course we have no comprehensive data to make that assumption with genuine facts!

You might hear him rumbling down the street and muse, there goes Tiny, or Junior, or any mix of candid shortster insults.


Little Tinklers

Eric, nice new look on the blog. I tried to post this little sighting, but apparently the blog will only accept comments from people with a Google account?

So here goes,  I was driving along a residential street Saturday afternoon. Temperature near 100 degrees. I passed a couple of little guys about two years old, standing in a wading pool under a tree in a front yard. Their bathing suits were down around their knees and they were both pissing right into the pool they were standing in! Totally unconcerned. I circled the block, but by the time I passed that house again two women had the boys wrapped in towels and were carrying them up the sidewalk. I hope the mothers weren't too hard on them. They were only doing what comes naturally!



At a Country Crossroads

I had to make a gas stop at a little rag-tag convenience store at the corner of two state roads the other day. After filling up I went inside for something to drink. There was a single cooler with Waters and Cola's, yet double or maybe triple the amount of beer selections. While making my soda selection,  a small drama played itself out between the apparent proprietor and her Son. It was one of those serendipity moments that give you an inner chuckle.

A young boy walked into the building and went immediately to the counter. "I need the keys," he told the clerk.

"What is it this time?" She reached under the counter and brought out her purse.

"Batteries for her hearing aid," he answered.

"Grandma "could" wait..." she reasoned.

"She doesn't wanna wait, she says her shows are starting in 15 minutes. Just give me the keys!"

A slight gasping exhale, then the clerk determines, 
"Lyle, Don't you let nobody see you, understand? Stay on the back roads."

"Yeah, I knowww-ah"

She clutched the keys as she offered her final sensibility, "Come from behind the store and walk around to the front, hear?"

"I know, I know." He took the keys and sauntered out the door with a sense of duty, but somehow now his shoulders were confidently more square, and his head taller above his body. There may have been a bit of John Wayne bravado in his steps even. That handful of keys transformed this lil guy into what might indeed elevate him to Man of the family role.

Now if you're like me, you are wondering about this little incident. Keys to what? Why shouldn't he be seen? What is so mysterious about a trip to buy batteries?

Meanwhile the kid was simply what he appeared to be, a tanned country boy. He was wearing old sneakers with no socks, a pair of ragged denim pants and a blue T-shirt with a faded American flag on it. His hair was brownish-blond and sort of choppy in the way it fell, but there were no sideburns. He was just a boy with an errand to do.

The kid had taken the woman's keys ambled outside and around the corner of the store. Then there was the slam of a car door followed by the brief grinding of a vehicle's starter and a reckless roar of power.

Immediately the boy steered a white Ram pickup across the driveway and out onto the road. I couldn't help staring. He looked even younger than before in that big truck, even more like a child.

"Your boy?" I asked the clerk.

"Yes. And the sheriff warned him about driving into town again."

"Warned him?"

"Well, yeah. He's only twelve."


Oh, for the life of a country boy!

Summer Fun

Be sure to Poke around here, there's all kinds of cool hidden stuff!!

Nuts Up

It'll lick off...

Equipment Failure

Through savage progress cuts-The Jungle Line

Looking for our lost speedo - or scroll to bottom of page
Bois gone Wild`1

Hood Ornament

Euro Tykes

Swim Meet Pals
New Sportswear Trend
Down to the BASIC Boy

Indian Guides


My first job was an after-school gig at an ice cream kiosk in the food court at a mall. Afternoons were downright boring, but things got busy around suppertime.

One afternoon a lady and a boy came into the food court. He was probably around twelve or maybe an immature thirteen. She gave him some money, pointed to a table a little distance away from my kiosk, and left him there. Apparently she'd given him instructions to wait there for her.

The kid purchased a bottled drink from another food shop and went back to his table to wait. Time dragged on. There was no sign of the mother. As a matter of fact, there was no activity in the food court at all. Except for the waiting boy and a few people working in other shops, the place was dead.

Maybe half an hour went by. The kid moved around, trying to get comfortable on his chair. After another moment he spread his legs as wide as possible under the table. He reached down with
both hands and gave his crotch a lingering squeeze. Then he looked around. Another pause. Now he extended his legs straight out, slid forward on the chair, and began rubbing the palm of his right hand in circles on his crotch.

The circular motion continued. Occasionally the boy would look around, but it seemed that he felt his action was hidden under the table and that he could safely continue massaging himself in his remote corner.

A few minutes went by while the circles continued. He was intensely focused on his lap and his moving hand. As he rubbed himself he stuck his legs further under the table and leaned back in the chair. His hand moved faster than before and he seemed to be raising his butt to mash his crotch tighter against the circling hand.

I was doing my best to mind my own business, taking care of chores in my kiosk. But of course my real attention was focused on the busy boy and on my own expansion. As he urgently rubbed his dick he tilted back in the chair. Its front legs were now several inches off the floor. He was obviously approaching a climax, rubbing himself as fast as possible and stiffening his body for the blessed release.

And then -- disaster.

The chair fell backwards, taking the young jacker with it. Chair and boy landed with a crash. He jumped to his feet, glancing around in embarrassment and picking up the chair.

He made no attempt to resume rubbing himself. I've wondered all these years: Did he have a climax, and the intensity of his ejaculation caused the chair to fall? Or, looking at it from the opposite direction, did the fall come first and trigger a climax and ejaculation? Or (and this is the one I lean toward) did the crash cancel his erection and leave him unfulfilled after all his effort?

I have to grin every time I remember the dude rubbing his crotch faster and faster until his chair turned over.
Thunder Cloud


A Delayed Thumbs-up

 I went to McDonald's this Sunday morning and a Hispanic family came in with a boy that was about 11 years old, he was dressed in a light colored grey suit with a vest and a white shirt. His hair was perfectly gelled up, he was very handsome in his suit. I don't think it's too off base to assume that the family was on their way to church. I like boys in suits because it is not as common to see as boys in casual clothes. The boy got back in line and I gave him a thumbs up and he looked behind him thinking that I wasn't giving him the thumbs up.

 On his way out, I made eye contact with him and nodded my head, he smiled back at me with a nice set of white teeth and gave me a quick thumbs up so I gave him thumbs up once more.

 The moment was over like that, we never spoke, I don't know his name, he doesn't know mine but it was nice nonetheless. Will I see him again? It certainly is possible if he lives in the neighborhood but it will likely always be in passing but even if I don't see him again we still had that quick moment of acknowledging each other.


Sasha as a Little Girl

This story is the very first submission I have ever receive in Russian. I am quite proud to receive a well written story from this guest author. I was astounded how suitably the translation brought the story to life in an easy to follow manner in English. That being said there were a few instances and situations in the story that could cause us to be Nuked. 

 I was always a little guy even when I was almost 11. Some friends at school called me an elf and patted my head, like a I am a pet to them. I was not much bigger than a nine year old. Girls tell me I have long eye lashes, and they are jealous. Boys know I was faster than most of them, and can dodge any of them if they chased me. Sometimes I still let them catch up to me and sit on me to rib tickle or grind on my middle. I think some boys liked to dominate me.

 On a spring holiday I was traveling on the train with my mother to Khabarovsk from Moscow. In our compartment at the stop we were joined by a young soldier student. He always smiled at us, and did not have a fierce look such as men soldiers do. I do not think he was 18 yet, but he  had some wine and said it was a gift for his birthday and he was going home on Spring break to share with family. He was old enough to be a biggie brother to me, but I wanted to call him an uncle, if he will allow me to. Perhaps the uniform made him seem like an adult uncle, even though he was still a boy like me, only bigger.

 I needed to go pee, and my mother asked him to take me to the toilet as there are many strangers on a train. He asked my name. Sasha I said. And I am Jack, he said. Well, come along to the toilet? I nodded and smiled, because he was so friendly like an uncle. I told him, "I want to call you Uncle Jack."

 He gently smiled, and took my hand as we walked the corridor. And then he lifted me up in his arms and carried me to the bathroom. He asked my age in years, and I told him, "I am elevan." I hugged him close, because he is a protector for me.

 Suddenly he is whispering in my ear that I was so beautiful like a girl.
I smiled back at him,  "I know." I said "I like it when my mother says that to me." I didn't say girls are jealous because I am prettier than them. But it felt so warmly nice he said it.

 He lowered me when we were in the toilet and put me right at the front of the pot. I felt embarrassed. In only a second he said, "Let me help."

Jack began to take off my pants and undies. "Piss ya girl", he said, and patted my little bottom. That made me giggle some. I looked back at him over my shoulder and smiled coy. The train sways so he steadies me with one hand on a shoulder.  I relax and the relief of urination, also with his soothing strong grip makes me feel as a royal. With a free hand he then began to squeeze my testicles. It was a painful bit. I moaned "Oww", but he said it is needed to better piss it all away. I continued to pee even more and he stroked my ass. I finished, shook off the final drips and turned so he can pull up my undies. But no, he kissed me on the lips, then his tongue slipped into my mouth and he kept it wiggling in there. I pull away, and was confused. But even more he began to stroke me all over the body and kept on with his kisses.

I do not understand anything. He told me that I'm a scared girl, and he will teach me to be a real girl, and that I will be fine. "Will you learn from your uncle Jackie?"

 "Yes", I said, swallowing my tears.

 "Well, then kiss my privates." He undid his pants and pulled out his big male strength unit. "Vozi the handle and squeeze!"

I held my hands behind my back. He encouraged me to hold it. I timidly took it in my palm. Somehow I began shivering.

 "You're trembling because you want to suck me." he said. "Open your mouth."

 I had my eyes closed. I do not remember how his cock was in my mouth, but it squeezed somewhere back into the throat, as if he had me swallow all of the male segment. I was sick, and the tears flowed in streams. Then his sausage began to throb in my mouth and something poured into me. I spat it out and asked:
"Uncle Jack, why did you pee in my mouth?"

 "This is a milk, it is necessary to eat, if you are to be a good girl." He took me by the ears, and again put the male segment in my mouth. I do not feel any taste. Just swallowed. He stroked my head and I felt good. I wanted to sleep in his arms. He kissed me on the cheek and then to my little segment.

  Then I put my pants, he took my hand. "Let's go to my mother?" I nodded. You still did not quite replicate a girl. Softly he told me in my ear. The next time you will dress in this. He took from his pocket a little lacy panty.

 And so the whole week on the train, he took me to the toilet. I put-on these girly panties and he taught me how to relax for his unit. The first time it was messy. I bit him on accident 2 times, but soon I was fine with it.

 I remember how he caressed me and loved my beauty. He went on Sadgorod before Vladivostok. And then my mother and I came home. Dosihpor I remember him. I want to once again become the little favorite "girl."

Russian Author