Everyone touches me. At least at one time or another. It can be a little brush of the fingertips, pat on the back, or even somebody trying to all out molest me. But most of it I don’t notice. Most of it I don’t feel. It’s just part of my job, what I have to deal with. It doesn’t mean anything to me.

But there are some touches that get through. Some touches that shiver deep deep into my guts, my bones, my heart. Some touches I feel way more than I think I’m supposed to feel. Some touches that feel way too good to be what they are. Or to be from where they are.

The guys touch me a lot. And I touch them. We hug, hold each other for photo-shoots, photo-ops, etc., and feel free to mess with each other. I’m comfortable with that. It feels good, yeah, and I feel it, but it’s nothing all that special.

Except when he does it.

I don’t know, there is just something about his touch. The way he touches. I don’t think it’s because it’s him that makes me feel this way, like because I have a crush on him or something. At least not in the first place.

Sometimes he would just pop out behind me, his presence only becoming known as his fingers trickled down my spine. I would cringe in surprise, not knowing who touched me until I turned to him. Turned to his teasing eyes, teasing smile, as he walked past me. Part of me thought I should go after him, try to hit him or get back at him for scaring me. But the rest of me was still reeling from how good it felt. And eventually that part of me that thought I should try to get him back, wanted me to go after him to make him do it again.

It does scare me to know what his touch does to me, to have his touch affect me so much. I mean, of all people. I don’t understand how he, a man, can make me feel so good. Granted, I don’t understand much of anything right now. I don’t know what, or who ‘feels good’ to me at all. Besides Kevin. And that is what terrifies me.

Today he was rather distant. And it made me sad. And I didn’t know why.

So I was extra touchy with Brian.

But now he’s just sitting there, watching TV. I’m in the other room, staring from behind a wall. He doesn’t know I’m here. Doesn’t know anybody is here. But knows anybody could be here.

It’s dark in there, with only the light from the TV and a dim lamp far off in the opposite corner of the room. He’s slouched back, legs spread, and at ease.

"Hi Kevin," I say softly as I emerge, my hand down the back neck of my T-shirt.

He smiles kindly, looking away from the TV. "Hi, Nicky." He looks back.

Beside the couch now, I ask, "What are you watching?" and another hand slips up the back bottom of my T-shirt.

"Nothing important. Kinda interesting though," he replies. Finally noticing my dilemma, he turns his gaze to me once more. "Nice bellybutton, Kiddo."

"It really itches," I whine, arching and twisting, trying to reach in between my shoulder blades with both hands. "And I can’t reach."

Holding his hand out, he waves me over. "Come here." He takes a small square pillow and places it against his thigh and the arm of the couch.

"Thanks." Inside I’m bursting, and trying so desperately not to let my enthusiasm show as I crawl across the warmth of his lap. I never thought he would let me lie across him, but of course I’ll be the last to object.

"Where do you need it?" he asks, his fingers scrunching around here and there.

"Oh! Higher! Yeah, in the middle, yeah...oh..." Yeah, that’s me moaning.

"I need to get you a backscratcher," Kevin idly states, his hand now lazily combing up and down the boniness of my back, and shifting my shirt.

"Why would I need somebody else?"

Kevin doesn’t reply, and just let’s me have my point.

Though I face the TV, my eyes are closed. I know Kevin’s watching the program, but I really could care less about it.

"Can you feel really that? You know I really don’t have much for fingernails," he quietly says, his other hand now holding the top of my head.

"Neither do I. Just...mmm....do it under," I sigh, gripping his knee.

"Can do," he drawls, pushing my shirt up to my neck. I lifted myself up a little to help him, so my bare belly and chest are now in full contact with his thighs.

Oh shit... And I keep on grunting and sighing and whimpering and...oh I don’t want it to stop. I feel like I could fall asleep. But I wouldn’t. I’m too excited. Really excited. I have never felt so good. Been touched so much. Touched so affectionately and...

No longer is he focusing so much on scratching. And I don’t really need to be scratched anymore. His skilled fingers trickle along my naked skin, tickling me but pressing just hard enough to keep it from being irritating. He knows he could stop. He knows he could make me get up and off him. But he keeps on touching me, casually stroking my back. And I’m about to die.

His hand eventually slows though, but the rate isn’t so much noticeable, as it’s a gradual decrease. But once it stops, to simply hold with his fingers curved over my ribs, I become well aware. "Kevin," I mumble, the tone giving away my more than relaxed state. "Don’t stop."

Starting right up again, he replies with, "I thought you were asleep."

"No. But..." I stir a little. "It is getting a little boring..."

"Well, don’t let me keep you here. You’re free to-"

"No," I interrupt, turning to face him. "I mean, could you..."

"Could I...?" He notices how my shirt has become tangled around my neck, and casually maneuvers it off as he waits for a reply.

"Could you..." Finding his hand, I delicately direct it to the center of my chest. "Just..."

Obviously concerned, he stares into my eyes, his other hand holding the top of my head again. I think he knows it’s wrong. I think he knows it’s probably too far. But he doesn’t say anything.

I feel like a bad little kid. And that’s probably how he sees me. Which is what makes him so concerned. But it’s not like I’m asking him to molest me. It’s only touching. And he doesn’t know how amazingly wonderful it will feel to me. It’s just an innocent request.

And then all of a sudden the back of his fingers slink down the faint dented line in the middle of my chest. "Kevin," I moan, eyes closing and head rolling back into his hand. I know I shouldn’t have said that. But it’s what I felt and it just...came out.

In response a finger actually finds my nipple and...my whole body just shuddered. "Do it again, Kevin. Do anything," I beg, practically panting.

He hesitates, but finds it again, this time pinching the hardened nub between that finger and his thumb. Automatically arching, I grunt and fumble for I don’t know what.

"Calm down," he shushes, his voice making me shudder all over again.

His fingers are on my belly now, caressing the tender skin. He keeps there for a while, a finger sometimes grazing the waistband of my jeans, just at about where the button is, and making me twitch.

Then all movement stops. Opening my eyes finally, I look up to see what’s wrong, then end up following his line of vision to below.

Uh oh. He noticed. And who couldn’t notice? I’m more excited than I’ve ever been in my life and it looks about to burst through the denim.

Now he’s staring into my eyes. Desperately I’m trying not to meet his gaze but...

Suddenly I feel this great release in pressure and- "Oh my god," I gasp.

He just unbuttoned my pants.

No! Er, wait, I mean yes. Yes, please yes.

But he can’t hear me. I’m not saying anything. His eyes are asking me, his hand is moving forward, but I’m just in awe, in shock. Stupidly my mouth hangs open, it moves a little for speech but nothing comes out. He’s staring at me still and I’m staring right back. Then I look down. He doesn’t touch me, not even through the fabric, but his finger tucks into the flap and suddenly I’m free. I’m so scared and embarrassed. Just the feel of the cool air terrifies me and being exposed in front of Kevin with the potential of him touching it is killing me. But I feel like I could cum right now.

"Nick?"

Our eyes meet again. He’s asking me.

"Yeah. Please..." I barely manage to whisper.

"Close your eyes... Lie back again," he softly instructs. "Just relax."

"Okay." My voice is quivering. So is everything else.

He pulls down my pants a little more and adjusts my underwear. Then-

I gasp, tensing greatly. I’m so scared, so scared, so scared...and it feels so good, so good, so good...

"Kevin, touch it...more..." Oh....man god... I’m not tense anymore. No...

It feels kinda like the massage, like before. His hand is slow and steady, and oh so sure.... And he keeps it at the height of pleasure, without going over, but without making it impossible to stand. It’s hard to breathe. I keep gasping and panting and my breath catches and then sometimes I hold it and scrunch my face and I’m so horribly disoriented and-

"Kevin, I’m gonna-"

Oh my god. His lips are- And his fingers are- And I’m-

Everything’s exploding and so many senses have never felt so much pleasure at once and I can’t help but cry this helpless little whimper, pathetically stifled by the lips that joined with mine as I spill myself on his hand.

Then he looks at me, concerned again, but I see the guilt in his eyes. And him trying to read me now. I still feel all shivery and shuddery and just so...

I look down. His hand is on my thigh, not so much of my cum is on him. No, it’s on my pants and belly and whatever instead.

My cum.

And Kevin was stroking my...penis.

"I’m sorry, Kevin," I whisper, on the verge of tears, scrambling to release myself from his lap. "I shouldn’t’ve. I’m sorry." I’m off, and don’t even bother with searching for my T-shirt. I shouldn’t have. He’ll think I’m weird now. He’ll never even touch me again. Oh god. And now I’m crying.

And my penis is still hanging out.

And now I just let out such a big sob I spit. Kevin saw that.

Now I’m running away while trying to fix my pants. But there are people out there. I can’t go out there. "No," I whimper, stopping to collapse against the wall and slide to the floor. I don’t know what to do but cry.

"Nick."

"Go away," I snivel. "I ruined it." More sobs as I stuff my face into the crook of arms above my bent knees.

"You didn’t ruin anything." God he’s so close. And his voice is so soft and reassuring. And it just feels...good...

"You don’t even know what I ruined," I continue to sob, my face much too wet already.

"It doesn’t matter, Nick. Come on, it’s okay. Right...?" He’s worried. I scared him. What about him? He can’t just go touching little boys. And I can’t just go wanting men to touch me.

"No," I whimper.

"Why not?" He’s touching me now, his hand on my shoulder.

"Because." I have no idea how to answer. I’m not even sure what my answer could be anymore.

"It felt good, right?" His words are still soft and not accusing.

"Yeah, but..."

"So...it was just touching that got a little out of hand, okay? It didn’t ruin anything. I won’t change, I won’t tell. You won’t tell?"

"I won’t tell..." I’ve lifted my head from the pit of my arms now, and only barely steal a couple glances towards Kevin. "But...don’t you think I’m like a pervert or something for making you touch me like that?"

"Nick, you didn’t make me touch you. I’m not that easily manipulated. I’m sorry it went that far, okay? I just thought...well, you wanted me to make you feel good everywhere else, and you were so obviously excited...and then you wanted to...that’s all. That’s all it was. And it won’t change anything unless you want to change it. Or unless you let it change."

"But-"

"You get to decide, Nick. You can let it be ‘ruined’, you can let it stay the same, or you can even help it get better. But it’s up to you. Don’t let it hurt you. It doesn’t have to."

"You mean...you really think it can be okay?" I shyly ask, looking towards him, my eyes actually meeting his a couple times.

"Yes. I don’t think you’re a pervert, and, if you don’t want it to, I won’t let it change things between us, okay? I promise."

"Well...can I think about it?"

"About which part?"

"Changing...things between us..." Oh man am I blushing.

"I think that will take a lot of thinking, Nicky. But how about we just agree to not let it hurt us, okay?"

"Okay." I’m even smiling a little.

"Come here." And he doesn’t even wait before pulling me into his arms, and I wrap myself right back around him.

"Thank you so much, Kevin," I whisper into his neck.

"Thank you?"

"For making me always feel so good..."