I'm a writer, living alone in a small, semi-detached house in a provincial town. The house next door is owned by an attractive divorcee called Marjorie, the mother of two teenaged daughters.

We were on good terms, and in fact we'd gone to bed together a couple of times, and the daughters sometimes sunbathed topless on the lawn, occasionally joined by their mother. I work in an upstairs room overlooking the gardens, and I confess to having squeezed my cock a few times as I stared down at their lovely young bodies, not to mention their mother's more mature figure, and once I saw the girls kissing each other, their naked breasts pressed together.

I thought maybe we could have a threesome or a foursome, but then Marjorie told me she was going to live in France with her boyfriend, and the girls were moving away, and that she was going to let the house. I was sorry, of course, but then to my dismay she told me that she was letting the house to students at the nearby university.

I had visions of rowdy parties and people coming and going at all hours, but to me relief they were fairly quiet, so much so that I hardly knew they were there. They did have one party, but they had the courtesy to pop a note through my door saying that it was someone's birthday, and that they hoped I wouldn't be too disturbed.

But then, one Saturday evening, things changed. It was very hot and sultry, and all the windows were open. I was just settling down to work, when there was a sudden blast of what the youth of today call music. The walls practically vibrated with the noise, and any thoughts of concentrating on what I was writing were out of the question.

I put up with it for a few minutes, and then ran out of patience. I went next door and rang the bell, and when that didn't work I banged on the door, and eventually it opened to reveal a boy — youth — naked apart from a towel wrapped round his waist.

I caught my breath — he had the face of an angel, looking more like a choirboy that a college student, with long, delicate eyelashes and the mouth of a girl, and droplets of water glistened on his bare body as he smiled at me questioningly. He was slightly built, about five feet eight, with fair hair and deep blue eyes I knew he must be eighteen or nineteen, but he looked more like at least three years younger — maybe fifteen or sixteen.

'I — I'm sorry, ' I stammered, 'I didn't mean to drag you out of the shower... '

'I don't mind being dragged out of the shower, ' he said, and my mouth went suddenly dry, imagining pulling back the shower curtain and seeing him with the water jetting down on his bare skin, and grabbing his wrist and pulling him out, dragging his wet, naked body into my arms...

I swallowed. 'I'm sorry, ' I said again. 'I live next door, and... '

'I know, ' he said, 'I've seen you working on your laptop. I'm Guy!'' and he held out his hand. I took his wet hand in mine, and felt a surge of arousal. I regarded myself as strictly heterosexual, but somehow I was captivated by the youngster.

'I'm Steve, ' I said hoarsely, and reluctantly released his hand. 'I just — I'm trying to work, and I wondered if you could turn the music down a little — I can hardly hear myself think!'

His eyes widened in consternation. 'Oh! I'm sorry! I turned up the volume while I was in the shower! I didn't think! I'll switch it off now!'

I forgot to mention that it was a hand towel he'd tied around his waist, knotted at the hip, and he revealed his leg completely as he turned and ran barefoot into the house, and I stared at his naked back and legs as he disappeared for a moment.

Suddenly there was silence, and then Guy returned, still showing his concern. As he reached the door, he seemed to try to tighten the towel, but instead he fumbled with the knot clumsily, and the towel dropped to the floor.

He stared at me in confusion, and I involuntarily glanced down at his groin, to see his penis hanging limply. But it didn't seem to be completely flaccid, in fact it seemed to be on the verge of an erection, starting to stiffen slightly as stared at it. I couldn't take my eyes off it, and Guy just stood there, completely naked, for a long moment, before he bent and retrieved the towel and unhurriedly replaced it around his waist.

'Is that better, Steve?' he asked, and I suddenly realised that he was talking about having turned the music off.

'Yes — yes, thanks — that's fine, ' I mumbled. We stood there, staring into each other's eyes, and then I took a deep breath.

'Yes — thanks again, ' I repeated, 'sorry to have troubled you, but... anyway, goodnight... '

He mumbled something, smiling softly, and I turned to go back to my house. But then I looked back, and he was still standing at the door looking after me, and I smiled awkwardly, unable to prevent running my eyes over his legs and body again.

I woke up in the night with a throbbing erection, and I stroked my penis, thinking about the boy — had his cock really started to harden as we looked at each other?

In the morning I showered and shaved — standing in the shower reminded me of him, and I rubbed my cock slowly for a few moments, thinking of the water on his body... it was going to be a hot day again, and I just put on a pair of shorts and sandals. I made myself some breakfast — well, toast and coffee, and settled down to read the Sunday papers.

It was difficult to concentrate, but a couple of hours passed, and then I decided to try to work, hoping that would take my mind of Guy and his body. I went upstairs and switched on my laptop, but then I glanced out of the window and gasped.

Guy was stretched out on a rug in the garden next door, and he was completely naked. He was lying on his back, and as I watched he stroked his thigh lightly, then moved his hand up to his belly, running his fingers over it, before letting them slide down to his penis. It was the way I remembered it last night — apparently semi-erect — was he always like that, seemingly half aroused, I wondered?

He fondled himself for several minutes, and brought his other hand up to cup his testicles, and then he rolled over onto his face and rested his head on his arms. Again I ran my eyes over his naked back and legs, and then I saw him clench his buttocks and move his hips from side to side, rubbing himself against the rug. He obviously couldn't get comfortable, because after a while he turned onto his back again and spread his arms wide, on knee slightly raised, and again his cock seemed to be half erect.

By this time, mine was out of my shorts, fully erect, and I was rubbing it gently, not exactly masturbating, but savouring the sensation as I drank in the sight of his naked body.

Then I put it away and picked up my laptop and went down into the garden. I set it up on the table at the bottom of the garden where I usually worked, sitting on the wooden bench, making more noise than necessary and clearing my throat loudly as I started tapping on the keys.

'Hello, Steve, ' a voice said softly, and I looked up to see the boy smiling at me over the fence.

We said the usual things, talking about the weather and how hot it was, and he said he was enjoying the sun for a bit before going out to get some beer.

'I've got plenty of beer in the fridge, ' I said. 'Want to come over and have one with me?'

His eyes lit up, and he said he'd love to, and that he'd come round.

'Just climb over the fence, ' I suggested. 'I used to, when your landlady lived there.'

He looked down and obviously saw the concrete support for the fence, and started to clamber onto the fence. I got up and offered him my hand as he put his foot on the top of the fence, and I swallowed hard when I saw his penis and testicles dangling beguilingly. He'd taken my hand, but then he slipped and fell towards me. I reached for him, but just as I caught him he landed heavily and winced.

'I think I've sprained my ankle, ' he gasped.

'Come up to the patio, and I'll get a cold cloth for it, ' I said, and he smiled painfully, then put his arm round my shoulders.

'Can I lean on you? It really hurts!' he gritted.

'Sure — I'll help you.' I put my arm round his waist, and supported him as he started to hobble along the path. I looked down, ostensibly at his foot, but really to see his penis swinging, again seemingly half erect, and acutely conscious that I was holding his naked body against me.

We got to the patio, and I helped him lower himself down onto a sun bed. He smiled up at me gratefully as he swung his legs up and leaned back, and then I went into the house and soaked a towel in cold water and put a couple of ice cubes in it. I returned to the patio and he wriggled to one side to make room for me to sit on the sun bed, and I took his foot and rested it on my leg, noticing the way he'd lifted his hips when he moved, raising his penis almost as if offering it to me.

I tied the cloth around his ankle, and he thanked me, while I sat for a moment with his bare foot on my leg. I was suddenly aware of an urge to kiss it, but I lightly replaced in on the bed, managing to caress his calf, feeling the softness of his skin.

'You've got very gentle hands, ' he almost whispered. 'I like feeling them on me. But you're very strong — it was nice when you caught me falling, and held me... '

I gulped and tried to grin, but it didn't work, and for a moment our eyes met.

'Now, how about that beer?' I managed to get out, and realised that my hand was still on his leg.

Without waiting for an answer, I went into the kitchen again and got two cans of beer from the fridge and a couple of glasses, but when I went back out onto the patio there was no mistaking him taking his hand away from his cock.

I poured the beer and sat on one of the patio chairs, and we started to talk. He told me he was studying art at the university, and that he was sharing the house with three other boys, and I asked him if he enjoyed his studies, and he said yes, but most of the time he thought about sex. Then he looked at me.

'Does it bother you that I'm naked, Steve? I like not having anything on... and I like the way you keep looking at me, but if you'd rather not... '

'No, it doesn't bother me — well, yes, it does, you're very beautiful, but I like seeing you naked, ' I heard myself say hoarsely.

'I liked you touching me, ' he said softly, and moved to one side again, holding out his hand. 'Come and sit here... please!'

I perched on the side of the sun bed, and rested my hand on his thigh, and he sighed.

'The only thing is — I wish you were naked, too — won't you take your shorts off?'

I hesitated for a moment, then quickly slipped them off and tossed them onto the chair I'd vacated. My penis hardened almost instantly, and Guy smiled as I replaced my hand on his leg.

'That's much better — you were terribly overdressed!'

The conversation returned to normal, and he began telling me about his housemates, although I wasn't really listening, and then he wriggled towards me until our thighs touched. He slid down the sun bed a little, and I put my hand on his waist, and he looked up at me.

'Stroke me, Steve, ' he whispered.

I couldn't believe what was happening, but I ran my hand over his chest, and his shoulders, and then lower, over his belly, and then his thighs — his skin felt wonderful, and then he took my hand and drew it to his cock. Again I hardly believed it, but I squeezed him gently, and he smiled dreamily.

'Last night — as soon as you left, I closed the door and took my towel off, then I leaned back against the wall and rubbed myself, thinking about the way you'd looked at me when I was naked, ' he whispered. 'And I saw you looking at me from your upstairs window this morning. I tried to put on a show for you, but I really wanted to do it anyway, thinking about you looking at me... '

For a moment I didn't know what to say, and just fondled his cock, feeling it harden in my hand. Then I decided to tell him the truth.

'I woke up in the night thinking about you, with a hell of an erection!'

'Did you?' he murmured, and then he reached for my cock.

He fondled me, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the head of my throbbing penis, smiling at me and looking down at what he was doing.

'You've never done it with a man — or boy — have you Steve?'

I shook my head dumbly, unable to speak.

'Is this nice?'

I nodded, still speechless.

He raised himself up. 'Kiss me, ' he whispered.

I took his in my arms. I'd never kissed a man — or a boy — before, and I hesitated, covered his mouth with mine. His lips were incredibly soft, but then he responded wildly, opening his mouth as our tongues fought with each other. He arched his body against me as we kissed wetly, and I ran my hand over his body, hearing him gasping in my mouth, his arms round my neck, clinging to me, and then I was rubbing his cock.

The feel of his cock in my hand was wonderful — now it was completely rigid, rock-hard and gristly, and I rubbed him with long, slow strokes, kissing him and having my kisses returned with increasing passion as he squirmed in my embrace, grinding his body against me. I rubbed him with increasing speed, twisting towards him so that my cock was pressed against him. I wanted every inch of our bodies to be in contact, I wanted kiss him all over, I wanted him to do the same to me, knowing somehow that it would happen later, but for now I hand his cock in my hand, my other arm round his trembling body, and our mouths working on each other, and then he cries out and his body arched, and I felt his semen spurt over me, jet after jet, some of it trickling over my hand, as he clung to me, kissing me frantically.