Adam? Yes, Matty.

Matty’s twelfth summer shaped up to be one for the record book, if there was such a thing as a record book for fooling around. Matty cheekily dubbed it the Summer of Sex, and it easily rivaled my own at his age, which I had thought couldn’t be topped.

We visited Mikey and Uncle Jackie twice, the weekend of his parents' retreat and again when they went to an out-of-town wedding. Mikey couldn’t get enough, and provided sufficient distraction for me to ignore the goings-on in the guest room. That kid was so sweet I wished I could love him the way he wanted me to.

Matty and David, of course, fucked like bunnies all summer in the hot glow of their love. On one occasion Donny came along with David to spend the night at our house, and may I say, vive la différence!

He was a bit quiet at first, friendly enough of course since I had known him for several months by that time, but clearly nervous since he knew precisely why he was there. Coming along had been his suggestion according to David, so obviously he wanted it to happen, but he didn't seem what you'd call eager.

I don't know if it was pre-arranged, but as soon as dinner and dishes were finished Matty and David insisted that Donny and I go on upstairs by ourselves because they had a particular "thing" they wanted to try in the family room.

"Is this OK, Donny?" I asked as we closed ourselves inside Matty's room. "You don't have to do anything with me if you don't want to."

"No," he said in his soft, halfway-changed voice. "It's OK. It's just that I never..."

"Did anything with a grownup?" I finished.

Donny looked at the floor. "Yeah," he said. "I mean, I've done stuff a lot of times, but only with my brothers. Oh, and my friend Andy."

"We can just talk for a minute," I said, and he gave a small, relieved smile. We sat on the bed about a foot apart.

"So how was your first year of high school?" I asked.

"Pretty good," he said. "It's a really big place, and there are kids who are, like, practically adults."

"Some guys have their own cars," I observed.

"Yeah," he said with obvious distaste. "Some guys get everything."

I made sympathetic eye contact. "The girls really go for that, huh?"

Donny looked at me with realization in his eyes. "David told you about Cynthia, I guess."

"Matty did, but yeah."

"I guess it was kind of stupid of me, huh?" he said. "Thinking someone like me could get a Pom Pom girl, and a sophomore on top of it."

I smiled sympathetically. "Hey, sometimes we don't get to choose what our hearts want. I remember when I was in eighth grade I had the biggest crush on Natalie Hanson. She was so fucking cute I couldn't stand it, but she only had eyes for Eric Chamberlain."

Donny looked at me questioningly. "I thought you liked boys," he said, and I'm sure he was thinking, and if not then why am I here?

"Oh, I do," I said. "I like both. In fact, I had eyes for Eric Chamberlain too!"

"Really?" he asked, his voice going quite high on the word. "You can do that?"

"Really," I said. "At first it was only boys, but then when I was thirteen I started getting giant boners over Natalie. Man, I jerked off till my dick was sore over her! She had short reddish-blond hair and big blue eyes and a nice slim body. She looked like the cutest boy ever, except with sexy little titties."

Donny smiled at that, then said, "Cynthia doesn't look like a boy at all! She's really beautiful with long blond hair and blue eyes..." He hesitated a beat. "...and super big tits! Man, I'd love to squeeze those things!"

"It's pretty confusing, isn't it?" I said. "You're really hot for this girl, there's no doubt about it, but you still really like messing around with boys, too."

"Yeah," Donny admitted, looking at me earnestly. "There's, like, something wrong with me I think. David and Danny both know what they want. David wants boys and Danny wants girls, but I just don't know!"

"There's no law that says you have to choose," I said. "Like I always tell Matty, just trust your instincts and like what you like. It may change someday and that's OK. If you like boys right now then have fun with boys, and if you want to date girls then date girls, or one of each! The point is, don't get all wound up about it. Just have fun."

Donny thought about it for a minute, and I honestly didn't know what would happen next. Finally Donny smiled sheepishly and said, "David says you give the greatest blow jobs."

Subtle.

I leaned into him and slowly kissed his tender, still-boyish lips. Burgeoning adolescence poured off of him in tremendously exciting waves, his exhilaration palpable. I pulled him to me and deepened the kiss and he gave himself to it. My hand found his soft, hairless thigh below the hem of his shorts and his skin felt every bit as childlike as David's, but when my hand slipped up over the shorts and found his throbbing bulge he no longer felt like David!

He moaned around my lips, and I eased him back to the mattress. We kissed deeply for a long time, and Donny wrapped his arms around my neck and held me as firmly as I held him. My hand found his stiffness again and squeezed and fondled it through his shorts, and his moans became even more passionate.

"Let's get these clothes off," I said, and he nodded shyly as I began pulling up his t-shirt. I made a point of inspecting his underarms as the shirt came off. The left was still as smooth and bald as a kindergartner, but on the right I found a single dark brown hair about a quarter of an inch long. I'll bet it was so new Donny didn't even know it was there.

I breathed him in, detecting only the merest whiff of that heady adolescent musk that puberty would soon bring in abundance. I checked out his brown nipples, the size of quarters, much bigger than David's and sharply erect. I noted his tiny shiver of excitement when I gave one a tweak, so I bent and suckled it like I did for Matty. He reacted positively, but not with Matty's passion.

His tummy was flat but unmuscled, quite a contrast from David, and I remembered that unlike his brothers Donny was not into athletics. I opened the button of his shorts and he lifted his hips so I could slip them down, leaving him in nothing but hugely bulging pale blue briefs. I looked into his eyes and saw a virtual doppelganger of David, unquestioned desire projected in his deep blue eyes.

Donny may have been uncertain about his sexual future, but he sure as hell wanted this blow job.

With a smile I hooked my fingers into his waistband and slipped the briefs down. Again he lifted his hips and a second later a beautiful, fully inflated teen cock came into view, a thick five-and-a-half inches straining up his belly and curving ever so slightly toward his face. Donny had apparently done a little more growing up since Matty described him to me after my honeymoon, because he had a decent bush of dark brown hair above his cock, although still none at all on his big, loose balls.

Remembering what Matty said about those oversized orbs, I gently took them into my fingers. "Does this feel nice?" I asked as I lightly tickled the silky soft skin of his scrotum.

Donny sucked in his breath. "Yeah, Adam. Play with my balls."

I rolled them in my fingers, quickly reading his reactions and finding the maximum pressure he found pleasurable. He moaned and his legs came wide apart. Still fondling his big nuts, I leaned in and licked the tip of that lovely cock. It wasn't a little boy's dick any more, but not yet fully a man's, although it was definitely getting there. In fact, that could be called the theme of this, my only experience with Donny Walker: not yet a man, but definitely getting there.

It was great fun contrasting the places he was still baby-soft against those where he was maturing. His skin was sweet and soft and utterly hairless except just above his nice thick early-teen cock. Those big balls hung free and low and he shivered in excitement as I fondled and sucked them. When I felt him getting going I moved to his delicious meat, his cockhead going all the way back and damn near entering my throat. It was the perfect length, in fact, and I pumped and pumped my mouth on him. I rode him a long time, playing with his balls and bringing him close, then delaying when I sensed him almost ready to blow. Finally he could take no more.

"Oh, please Adam!" he cried, his hips off the bed as he pushed it up between my lips. "I have to cum!"

I didn't answer, just pumped and pumped at a steady pace and met his thrusts above the mattress until I felt those big balls pull up in my hand, his sweet dick go even more rigid than seemed possible, and a single fierce shot of thin, immature cum burst into my mouth. I drank it down eagerly, sweet and fresh as only young teenage cum can be. Donny strained and thrust for another fifteen seconds but nothing more came, except maybe a slight trickle. Apparently the boy had only one decent shot to fire, and I felt honored to have received it.

I climbed up the bed to lie by his side and I pulled him into a kiss. I sensed a bit of unease, so I fixed his eyes with mine and said, "What are you thinking?"

Donny looked away, then cautiously back. "I guess you want to fuck me now, huh?"

I smiled as kindly as I could. "Not if you're not into it," I said. "Around here sex is about pleasing each other because we want to. You absolutely don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Tell you what. We've got all evening if we want to do more together. Right now let's just go downstairs and see what the boys are up to."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry, with David and Matty around no boner goes neglected."

We found the boys in the family room. Matty was astride the overstuffed arm of the sofa, riding it sort of like a jockey galloping his horse into the home stretch, with his sweet ass slightly off the end. David stood behind him, ramming doggy-style into Matty with all his considerable strength.

Or maybe it was horsie-style.

He slammed into my boy for three or four more minutes until Matty groaned and came unusually vocally, followed almost immediately by David's howling orgasm.

When they wound down to semi-coherence I said, "Let me guess whose idea that was."

That summer also saw the boys often coming over to the condo for orgies… I mean “swim parties.” Jeremy wasn’t in the group anymore, having met a very pretty, very tall, very slim and very blond eighth-grader named Carl who became his exclusive, steady boyfriend. A few months later Susan and I chaperoned the school’s Halloween party and saw them together dressed as, of course, skeletons, and I happily noted what a cute couple they made.

Jason and Mike were concentrating more and more on each other and me, possibly compensating for Matty’s focus on David. Oh, Matty and David spread their attention around as best they could, but everyone saw the difference between their lovemaking and mere playtime with the other boys.

David had long been a competitive swimmer, and in his desire to spend every waking moment with his lover Matty decided to join the Park District swim team as well. He had never shown any interest before, being more of a gymnastics-tumbling-trampoline-twisty-turny sort of kid. But realizing that David would be spending so many hours at the pool it suddenly seemed attractive, especially when Matty found out that since he was now twelve he could join the team as a diver, which was much more up his alley. Side benefit: I enjoyed the hell out of taking Matty shopping for the tiniest little Speedo he could possibly squeeze into.

Arlene and I took turns driving the boys to the Park District Aquatic Center every weekday morning. After practice they would walk across the playing fields to join Mike and Jason in the day-care program until one of the Moms picked them all up at the end of the day. I had to say that our city’s Park District programs for kids were just amazing, giving them a place to have fun while getting fresh air and exercise, and lunch was included to boot! It was a tad expensive, but with our two solid incomes Susan and I thought it was well worth it.

One morning after dropping off the boys I decided to hang around and watch them practice. I had no appointments that day and, frankly, the boss had gotten used to me pretty much coming and going as I pleased. As long as the work got done and I didn’t start missing meetings it was all good.

The boys came out of the locker room together – looking like Heaven itself in their tiny, tight swimsuits – and stood talking on the side of the pool for several minutes, not noticing me in the bleachers. I perked up when I saw an especially cute younger boy emerge and walk past them, his very round and attractive ass filling his Speedo to maximum stretch and showing his butt-cleavage in all its glory. David’s gaze followed the boy as he passed and Matty gave him a playful punch on the upper arm, whereupon the lovers’ eyes met and they erupted in laughter.

Your basic adorable young couple.

A barefoot and quite hunky man about my age in athletic shorts and a Park District t-shirt appeared and blew a shrill whistle, and the boys and girls gathered around. I couldn’t hear what he said but he was obviously in charge. He gestured this way and that and kids began separating into sections to begin their drills. David said something to Matty and walked away, adjusting the strap on a pair of swim goggles I hadn’t noticed he was holding.

Matty pretty much stayed where he was and four other boys and three girls joined him, ranging in age from the dive team minimum twelve to about seventeen. A moment later a very handsome young man stepped over, dressed exactly like the one in charge except for a sun visor with a logo I happened to recognize, the University of Minnesota. (Hard to miss a big golden gopher.) He was twenty or so and built like an Olympic athlete, with wavy dark blond hair and delicate features that reminded me instantly of Matty. My boy would need a whole lot more muscle on his shoulders, chest and legs to get there, but if that was his future he could do a lot worse.

I was rather taken with the young man I admit, which is why I didn’t immediately notice the other college-age coach, a very muscular but pretty young woman with light brown hair, virtually no breasts and gym shorts over her tank suit. The five older kids followed her to the diving well of the pool while Matty and another young boy and girl stayed with Mr. Minnesota on the pool deck.

The coach began to lecture, and when it became clear it would take several minutes my attention wandered around the pool to the various other clusters of – might I say – gorgeous young bodies. I quickly spotted David on the starting blocks with two other boys preparing to enter the water. At a chirp of the whistle they all dived in and swam a couple of butterfly strokes, then moved to the side of the pool to climb out. David had barely submerged and was the first to break the surface and begin swimming while both other boys went much too deep and fell behind before they’d even started. The same three climbed back onto the blocks and, at the whistle, dived in again. David again performed flawlessly and one of the other boys did significantly better while the other belly-flopped with a huge splash. It surprised me slightly that no one laughed at him. David said something and the boy nodded, and the next try was a lot better.

I turned back to Matty’s group and saw the coach teaching a simple pike position on the side of the pool. Matty and the girl assumed positions sitting on the pool deck, legs extended and toes pointed, leaning forward and grasping their calves with both hands. They looked sleek and tight, and it seemed to me the only things touching the deck were their heels and butts. The other boy, by contrast, was quite sloppy, grasping behind his knees instead of his calves, which bent his knees up. Try as he might he couldn’t hold the butt-and-heels position and he rolled backwards onto his back.

The coach apparently told Matty and the girl to relax because they simultaneously uncurled themselves and lolled casually on the deck. Mr. Minnesota began working with the boy, folding him manually into the correct position and holding him there for many seconds.

A feeling began to creep over me as my gut started to react. The coach was touching him far longer than he needed to, his hands no longer positioning the boy and now, unless I was imagining things, caressing. Sure enough, the coach ran his hand along the boy’s calf all the way up to his butt, I’m sure delivering a monologue that was meant to make it seem innocent, but I knew better.

It takes one to know one.

I kept watching, focused on the coach’s agenda. They went through several more positions on dry land and the pattern emerged that Mr. Minnesota paid far more attention to the boys than the girl, and he laid his hands on both Matty and the other boy far more than seemed necessary. Of course I’m no diving coach, and if this guy was on a Big Ten college team he was no slouch. I could certainly have been wrong, but my B-L gaydar was sounding a loud klaxon.

My phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. Matty must have heard it because he looked straight at me and grinned in recognition, waving happily. I smiled and waved back as I pulled out the phone and flipped it open. It was a secretary for one of our sub-contractors asking if I could meet a.s.a.p. about certain new contract restrictions, and I reluctantly agreed to head straight to their offices. I caught Matty’s eye and pointed to the phone, shrugging and waving bye-bye. He nodded his understanding and sadly returned the bye-bye wave. Even from across the pool I could see in his eyes that he had been happily excited that I came to watch, and crestfallen that barely thirty seconds later I was leaving. I decided that I would play it up big that night at home, and make sure he knew how much of his morning I had actually shared.

Barbara Quinn dropped Matty off at home that evening and chatted a few minutes about the great guy she had finally met. I noted that Jason didn’t look happy, and hoped it was just that he didn’t like sharing his mother after all this time, rather than something more serious. When they left I immediately asked Matty about it.

"Doesn't Jason like the guy his Mom is dating?"

"Jason says he's a nice guy and all," Matty said, "but he's kind of old, and kind of fat, and he doesn't have much hair. Well, not on his head. Jason saw him with his shirt off once and said he looked like a gorilla."

I couldn't help laughing, and Matty grinned too.

"He always hoped his Mom would meet someone like you," Matty continued. "You know, someone he could fool around with."

"Well, that was never very likely," I said. "He can't go by us. We were the luckiest people on the planet to find each other the way we did."

Matty smiled lovingly, and I decided to keep the good feelings going. I started gushing over how great Matty had looked at dive practice, and of course he modestly played it down the way he usually brushed off compliments, but I could see the happiness in his eyes.

“I watched David, too,” I said. “Boy, he’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

At this Matty swelled with pride for his boyfriend. “Yeah!” he said. “He’s the best twelve-year-old on the whole team!”

“Looks great in a Speedo, too,” I said, and we shared a dirty smile. “And so do you.”

“David has three Speedos,” he said, “so he doesn’t have to wear the same one every day. Can I get one more, at least?”

“Sure, sweetie,” I said. “We can go shopping again tomorrow.” After a pause I ventured, “So, your coach dives for a college team, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Matty said. “His name is Jeff, and he dives for the University of Minnesota.”

“So he’s pretty good then?”

“I guess so,” Matty said. “He did a few dives the first day to show us some things, but he didn’t do anything really fancy.”

“The fancy stuff will come eventually,” I said, aware that I was stalling. I decided to just dive in, so to speak. “What do you think of him personally?”

“You mean because he likes boys?”

“Um, yeah,’ I said, a little taken aback both because he recognized it just as easily as I did and because he seemed to take it completely in stride.

“It’s fine,” Matty said nonchalantly. “He’s really handsome, don’t you think?”

“Well, yes,” I said. “He’s fucking gorgeous, in fact.”

Matty broke into a lascivious grin. “I’ll say!” he exclaimed, dropping his too-cool-for-the-pool act. “And man, he’s got a great body!”

“You’ve seen his body?” I asked, trying not to be jealous. “I mean, all of it?”

“He said he was in a hurry to get somewhere yesterday, so he had to shower at the pool,” Matty said. “David and I hung around just so we could see him naked. It was only fair, ‘cause he sees us naked every day. That’s how we know he likes boys, because he makes sure to see naked boys every day, especially us younger ones. David said we should go in and shower with him and give him a thrill.”

“And did it give him a thrill?”

“Yep,” Matty said. “He tried not to get a boner, but David whispered, ‘Watch this’ and when he was sure Jeff was looking he bent all the way over like he was washing his feet and showed his wide-open butt hole. Jeff couldn’t tear his eyes away and his dick stood straight up.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, picturing the scene. “What did he do?”

“He got all embarrassed and tried to cover himself up, but David smiled at him and said it was OK, that he could look at us if we could look at him.”

“No shit!” I exclaimed. “What happened then?”

“Me and David let our own boners come up, too, and we all kind of stood there looking,” Matty said. “Jeff doesn’t have a very big one, but it sure got nice and hard.”

I gave Matty a naughty smile. “So what are you going to do about Jeff’s nice hard boner?”

Matty grinned salaciously and said, “David and I are gonna fool around with him as soon as we can.”

I let my smile fade. It was scary, but the time had come to either put up or shut up. Matty was going to do this, be with older men, whether I wanted him to or not. It was in his nature, just as he had been telling me for two years already. He was still only twelve so I could probably forbid it for another year or two, but he would resent it and eventually he would grow bold enough to go behind my back. Then I'd have no control, no ability to help him, and maybe I'd lose him entirely. If I truly wanted to help him I had to put my own wishes aside and be there for him, and he had to know I had his back so that he would trust my judgement.

“Matty, I understand that Jeff is a really hot guy and I think you’re right that he likes young boys, but as your Dad it’s my job to keep you safe, so I’m afraid I can’t let you be with him.”

A look of pure shock came over Matty’s face. “Wait… what?”

“We’ve talked about this before,” I said. “You can’t just go with any random man just because you’re hot for him. Most people are nice, but not all of them, and you could end up getting hurt or even worse.”

“But he’s not some random man,” Matty insisted. “He’s my diving coach.”

“You’ve known him for what, a week?” I said. “And what do you really know about him? I’ll bet you don’t even know his last name.”

Matty was silent. Jesus, he really didn’t know Jeff’s last name.

“Where does he live?” I asked, knowing Matty didn’t have a clue. “Has he ever been in trouble? Does he drink or do drugs?”

“But… but,” Matty floundered, then got an inspiration. “The Park District wouldn’t bring in somebody bad to teach us kids, would they?”

“That’s a fair point,” I said. “I’m sure they checked him out. And he is a top athlete. It’s not likely that he’s any sort of druggie or anything.”

“So then it’s OK to be with him?” Matty asked with hope in his voice.

“No, Matty, it’s not.”

“But Dad!” he cried in despair. “He’s so hot! I really like him, and you always say I should like what I like and have fun while I’m still a kid!”

“I know, Matty,” I said, “and I really mean that. I’m not trying to keep you from having fun, or scare you off of new adventures. But I’m your Dad and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”

I sat him down and faced him in the here-comes-something-serious posture.

“Listen, son,” I said. “You’re twelve and I’m thirty-eight. I’ve been on this Earth three times as long as you, and I’ve seen three times as much shit. It’s my job to keep you and your mother safe, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for either of you. If there was a truck about to hit you and there was no other way to save you I would gladly knock you out of the way and let it hit me instead. I swear to God I would do that in a heartbeat.”

Matty looked frightened and confused, so I smiled quickly and pulled him in for a brief hug.

“Don’t worry, that will never really happen,” I said, letting him back out to arm’s length. “The reason that will never happen is because of the other part of a parent’s job, teaching you how to protect yourself. You’ll never be in the way of a truck because your Mom taught you to look both ways before you cross the street.

"I don’t want you to be afraid of the world, Matty. Quite the opposite. I want you to learn that with a little caution and a lot of common sense you can have your fun and still be safe.”

Matty licked his dry lips and looked at me sort of sideways. “I’m confused,” he said. “Can I fool around with Jeff or not?”

“Not yet,” I said. “You’re a very smart, very mature kid, Matty, but you’re still a kid. You’re not ready to evaluate grownups and decide for yourself who's a good person and who isn't. For now I need to do that for you and teach you along the way. I need to speak to Jeff and evaluate him for myself, and then I’ll decide if he’s good enough for my Matty.”

Matty thought about this for a long moment, then said, “Dad?”

“Yes, Matty”

“Can you please hurry up and evaluate him? He really gives me a boner!”

Back then there was this new-fangled thing called the Internet, which nobody had in their homes and most people had never even heard of. We had it at work for, among other things, a service my company subscribed to that searched public records on both individuals and companies.

Part of my job as Contracts Administrator was to evaluate clients and potential sub-contractors. For example if somebody wanted us to build their building and my research showed that they got sued a lot for non-payment, I would probably recommend against taking the contract. Likewise I wouldn’t sign up a sub-contractor if they were always getting sued for shoddy workmanship. I wasn’t really supposed to use it for personal business but we paid for it by the month rather than per search so I rationalized that it wouldn’t cost any extra for me to look up Mr. Minnesota.

That was the first order of business, of course, to find out his last name. Because the simplest solution is often the best I just had Matty ask him, and found out it was Benson. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me that there were three Jeff Bensons in the area, but only one who was twenty years old. There were no lawsuits or criminal convictions in his name, at least in the two years he had been legally an adult. Because of privacy laws the search did not disclose juvenile records but I wasn’t very worried about that. Jeff wasn’t the type.

I then used a primitive search engine called Alta Vista – kind of a proto-Google – to look for news articles that might mention him. There were several hits I could confirm were the right Jeff Benson, and some even had pictures. There was a feature story from the Sunday supplement with a nice color photo showing Jeff at age nine outside a grocery store with several other Cub Scouts collecting donations for Jerry’s Kids (and he was fucking cute in that little blue uniform I might add.)

Next was a mention of him winning the district-wide science fair in seventh grade (no picture.) Platform diving at the Junior Nationals at age thirteen (he placed seventh in the Fourteen-and-Under division, and was even cuter than before.) Accepting the second-place trophy at the high school state tournament as a senior (wearing a fleece warm-up suit so I am unable to comment on his hotness.) Finally, this year’s team photo with the Golden Gophers divers (and looking like a Greek god.)

Well, I’d answered the question of whether he knew his stuff as a diving coach, and could see for myself why he gave Matty such a boner. (I had to admit my own pants were feeling a bit snug.) So far it was a portrait of a pretty good guy, and I was already disposed to approve of Matty’s involvement with him, but I needed to be sure, and Matty had to know that I was serious about being sure. I needed to speak to people who knew Jeff personally, but at enough distance not to freak him out if it got back to him.

I called Long Distance Information – yes, that was a thing back then – and got the number for the University of Minnesota Sports Information Office. I found out Jeff’s diving coach was a guy by the name of Averil Williams, and after some bouncing from extension to extension was finally connected to him. He sounded like a fairly typical jock to me, but not an obnoxious one.

I gave him a cock-and-bull story about wanting to hire Jeff as a science tutor for my middle school son who had a less than steadfast grasp on the subject. Coach Williams could not have been more complimentary of Jeff, pointing out that he was a Biology major with a strong GPA, already had experience tutoring at the high school level, and was generally the nicest kid in the forty-eight contiguous states. He basically said Jeff deserved every accolade up to and including sainthood, and said, without actually using the word, that if he had a kid as stupid as mine he’d hire Jeff to tutor him in a second. I reminded myself that the “stupid” Matty he alluded to was fictional and therefore couldn’t be insulted, so I thanked the coach for his time and hung up.

Then I drove over to the Aquatic Center and had a friendly coffee with Head Coach Abrams, ostensibly to assess Matty's progress on the diving team but also asking about everyone and everything so as not to reveal that I was particularly interested in Jeff Benson. I heard all about the tiny leak in the pool filter that would have to be repaired as soon as the season was over, about the tremendously muscular female diving coach who had an extremely attractive girlfriend – yes, that kind of girlfriend, not that there’s anything wrong with that – and finally about the terrific kid from U of Minnesota who was charming everyone in his path and quickly becoming everybody’s favorite.

The only thing left was to satisfy my own gut instincts. I needed to look Jeff right in the big blue eyes. I waited outside the Aquatic Center after practice until Jeff came out and climbed into a current model white Volvo I assumed was his mother’s. (If a twenty-year-old could afford a brand-new car he surely wouldn’t pick a Volvo.) I carefully followed, not really knowing what would happen but looking for a chance to discreetly approach him. I guess you’d call it a case of mild stalking.

He drove straight to a locally-famous hot dog joint and went inside, emerging minutes later carrying a cardboard tray with a giant soft drink and one dog loaded with every condiment known to humankind. No fries, I noted, remembering that he was an athlete. He sat at one of the umbrella-covered picnic tables in front.

I let him eat in peace, but when he was almost finished I walked right over and sat directly across from him. He looked up at me more in confusion than alarm.

“Hi,” I said brightly. “You’re Jeff Benson, aren’t you?”

“Um, yeah,” he answered warily. “Do I know…?”

I offered my hand. “My name is Adam,” I said. “I’m Matty Watkins’ Dad.”

He brightened immediately in what I’m sure was genuine pleasure. “Oh, sure!” he said, taking my hand and shaking. I liked his grip. It was firm and confident, but not aggressive. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir. Matty is a nice kid, and he’s going to be a good diver.”

“Forget the ‘sir’ stuff,” I said. “Just call me Adam.”

“OK, Adam,” he said, then somewhat uncomfortably waited for me to say whatever it was I had come to say.

“Listen, Jeff,” I began, glancing around for eavesdroppers. “I know about the other day in the showers, with Matty and David Walker.”

I saw the alarm bells go off behind his eyes, and he physically set himself as if he was going to jump up and run away.

I put both palms out in the “calm down” gesture. “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I said. “It’s OK.” I lowered my voice and leaned in a little. “I’m not here to hurt you, or call the cops or anything. Believe me, I’m the kind of guy who understands such things.”

Jeff mulled that statement over, not sure if it meant what it sounded like it meant.

“Matty likes you a lot,” I said, “and by that I mean he likes you the way I think you like him.”

Jeff looked around uncomfortably.

“This place might be a bit too public for this conversation,” I said. “Why don’t we go sit in your car where no one can overhear us.” He looked at me warily while I put on a reassuring smile. “Again, I don’t want to hurt you, and in fact I probably couldn’t. You’re in tremendous shape and half my age. I’m quite sure you could kick my ass down the block and back again.”

He assessed that statement and evidently agreed, because he relaxed somewhat, but then his brow furrowed and he said, “I can’t kick a gun’s ass.”

A short laugh escaped under my breath. “No guns,” I said. “Want to search me?”

Jeff actually smiled for a half-second. “That won't be necessary.”

He led me over to the Volvo, unlocked it, and we both climbed in. The second we were settled Jeff faced me more confidently than he had up until then.

“What’s going on here, Mr. Watkins?”

“Not my name, but close enough,” I said. “I’ll put my cards on the table, then you’re going to show me yours. Matty is gay, or at least he thinks he is right now. Most gay kids know it by the time they’re twelve, don’t you think?”

Jeff responded warily, “Yeah, probably so.”

“I encourage him to embrace his sexuality and enjoy it,” I went on. “He mostly has fun with his age-mates but what he really likes is older guys, and in fact he and I… Well, you get the idea. He told me about your reaction to him and David in the shower and he thinks the two of you could enjoy each other, too.”

“Holy shit,” Jeff muttered, looking anywhere but my eyes. “You do it with your son?”

“No, no,” I stammered. “I should have been clearer. I’m his step-Dad. No! I’m his adoptive Dad. I married his Mom and adopted him.”

“And you think that’s better?” he said. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Adam, you’re weird as shit.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said. “Although it isn’t weird to me, or to Matty.”

I proceeded to pour my life out to him, starting with growing up horny as hell for pretty much every boy in my life, through discovering girls in my early teens and realizing it didn’t stop me from loving boys as much as ever, and then in my late teens discovering that certain adult men could do it for me, too. I told of meeting Susan and Matty and falling for both of them, pretty much word for word the way I had told Cousin Chris the previous year, and brought Jeff up to the current day with our little Condo Swim Club and Uncle Jackie, without mentioning names, of course.

“So now we each know something about the other that could ruin both of us,” I said. “That’s called ‘mutually assured destruction’ just like the nuclear arms race. Neither of us can mess with the other without getting the same in return.”

“Well,” he said, “you don’t really have anything on me. I didn’t do anything in the shower except get a hard-on, and guys get hard-ons all the time.”

“Yes, but you must realize that the mere accusation is enough to fuck up your life,” I said, “and the boys would back up my story. But let’s not get off into some kind of pissing contest anyway. I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to set you up with the most beautiful, sexiest boy in the whole world, because I love him with all my heart and you’re what he wants.”

Jeff thought about it for a moment, then nodded and smiled sheepishly. “OK, so what now?”

“You need to tell me your story,” I said. “Convince me that you are as good of a guy as I think you are, because believe me I wouldn’t be here unless I thought you just might be worthy of my Matty. He’s a remarkable kid, smart and intuitive, and he can read people better and more quickly than anybody I’ve ever met in my life. He read you in a heartbeat.”

Jeff reddened a little, telling me a lot about what he must have been thinking when he laid eyes on Matty.

“As good as he is at reading people,” I went on, “He doesn’t have the life experience yet to recognize every single warning sign. That’s where I come in. If he’s going to be with older guys I have to step in and make sure it’ll be OK.”

I fixed Jeff with a firm gaze, and his eyes acknowledged my gravity.

“He’s my life – the sun and the moon and the stars. If anybody were to hurt him, physically or emotionally… Well, I don't even want to think about what I'd want to do to that person.”

Jeff looked at me in silence for a moment, then softly said, “Matty’s really lucky to have a Dad – adoptive Dad – who is so supportive. Maybe if I thought for one second my Dad could deal with it…”

He sighed deeply and began confessing his lifelong obsession with pre-pubertal boys. It was the reason he got into swimming and diving, so that he could be around naked and nearly-naked boys. He grew more and more enthusiastic as he talked, for the first time feeling the relief of being totally honest about the deepest secret in his life.

He spoke in detail of his very first encounter at age six with a ten-year-old neighbor boy, in which he discovered the sheer delight of pleasuring a supremely stiff, beautifully hairless cock with his eager mouth. He eloquently described bottoming for the first time, and how the pain steadily transformed into all-consuming pleasure as his eleven-year-old swim teammate thrust into his nine-year-old rectum and jabbed his “joy buzzer” of a prostate over and over, making him cum and cum as if it would never stop. He told of seducing every single member of his sixth grade basketball team over the course of the season, including multiple repeat partners and some players from rival schools.

And then Jeff grew sad as he told of getting older, reaching puberty relatively early at barely twelve years old and slowly but inexorably losing his automatic “in” with the younger, still-hairless crowd. Soon he was a fourteen-year-old pedophile, a predator, and had to hide himself in shame and pretend that he had outgrown such proclivities like the now-straight friends he used to play with. He couldn’t bring himself to date girls in furtherance of the pretense so he concentrated on athletics as his excuse for not having a girlfriend.

But now it was getting harder and harder to keep up the facade, and he thought about coming out as gay just so the girls would leave him alone, but then he’d have guys hitting on him, and he just wasn’t interested in anybody beyond puberty. He hadn’t had a genuine, satisfying sexual encounter since leaving for college two years before.

“So yes Adam, I’m hot as hell for Matty,” he said. “If he’s into it so am I, but I have to ask you one thing. Why aren’t you jealous? How can you stand it that your lover wants to be with other guys?”

I thought about it before answering, and it wasn’t the first time by a long shot. “First of all, hell yes I'm jealous!" I said. "If it was only about me I wouldn't let you within a block of him. But it isn't about me, it's about him."

I softened my voice and went on, "If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this weird life of mine it’s that everybody has to be who and what they are. We have no choice, because if we try to be anything else we’re going to fail. We have to accept what other people are, too, that they need to be their authentic selves just as much as we do. Matty, it turns out, is poly-amorous. He wants and needs multiple sexual friendships and can even be in genuine, full-on love with more than one person, even at the same time.”

“David?” he asked.

“Very perceptive,” I said, smiling. “Yes, I’ve had to accept that even while Matty loves me, he also loves David just as deeply. And David has had to accept it, too, that Matty and I are lovers just as they are, and if he wants to be with Matty he has to be OK with that. David and I are not rivals. In fact I like him very much and we even fool around together, but not romantically. It’s just sex play, you know, like with the other boys. I’ve never had sex with David when Matty wasn’t also involved, but it would be OK if we did. Matty understands that it doesn’t threaten either of his relationships.”

“So would I be a lover or just a sex play partner?” Jeff asked.

“I think, initially at least, just a sex partner,” I said. “No offense, Jeff. You seem like a great guy, and it’s certainly possible that you two could fall in love at some point, but so far he’s only talking in terms of how physically hot you are – which by the way is majorly fucking hot. If that did happen, though, you would have to understand that he also loves David and he also loves me.”

“Remember when I said you were weird as shit?”

“Yeah.”

“I was wrong. You’re much weirder than that. But apparently so am I, because I’m totally in.”

I laughed. “Everybody’s weird,” I said. “We all just have our own different kinds of weird.”

“Listen,” Jeff said in a more serious tone, “I understand that you’re trying to protect Matty, and I get it. I respect you for keeping his happiness and well-being at the forefront. You’re a good Dad.”

I actually blushed.

After a week it became clear that it wouldn’t do to have Jeff Benson’s (Mom’s) car parked in our driveway two or three evenings a week. I had seen nosy Mrs. Carter from down the block giving the white Volvo the eye as she walked her little fluff ball of a dog past our house, and then again as she walked back carrying a little plastic baggie of Shih Tzu shit. Though she’d probably assume it was me having an affair with another woman rather than Matty having an affair with a college hunk it was still a rumor mill I preferred not to stoke.

I thought we might use the cover story of Jeff being Matty’s science tutor but that wouldn’t fly with so many people – especially Susan – fully aware that Matty was one of the brightest kids in his class and in no need of remediation in any subject.

It was Matty who came up with the brilliant suggestion of relocating their trysts to the condo, where Jeff could make sure he was observed actually giving individualized diving instruction, thus bolstering the story. The condo had only a one-meter springboard – which Jeff complained was a crappy one to boot – but it suited the narrative. Also Matty really did want to become a better diver, so this one stone did a great job clobbering two birds.

Jeff had zero interest in any three-way involving me so I loaned him the key to the condo and phoned ahead to explain the situation to the front desk security person; that is, the bullshit cover story version of the situation. The boys promised to do at least an hour of diving before retiring to the bedroom, and I tried not to think about what came after.

Matty, of course, told me everything in dick-stiffening detail. Jeff’s body was every bit as exciting as Matty had expected and Jeff’s individual style and technique intrigued him. As predicted it was not a love match from Matty’s side, just fun fun fun until Mama took the Volvo away, which was upon Jeff’s return to college in late August. (Millenials, look up the Beach Boys for God’s sake.) I suspected it was a bit more than fun from Jeff’s side, but he took what he could get.

I also got in on the ribaldry a couple of times when the other boys were also along, though Jeff studiously avoided actually touching me. We had bonded over our parallel gay-kid childhoods and subsequent B-L sensibilities but we didn’t really become friends, and that was OK with me.

I think it really weirded him out that I had called him “majorly fucking hot,” knowing that I sleep with men as well as boys. I think in his mind being with sweet, soft, smooth little boys is a perfectly understandable desire, but getting down with rough, hairy, stinky men is just plain gross.

There’s part of me that understands the argument.

But it’s not like I thought about him every waking moment and jerked out gallons of jizz muttering his name. Sure, if he was into it I’d definitely give it a go, but since he was not into it the point was moot and I was fine with that.

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Next time:

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