They stood near the entrance doors of the Denver bowling alley as, one by one, the parents came to pick up their boys until it was just the two of them, Kenny Ward and Bob Butler, standing there.

“Your parents aren’t going to come and pick you up?” Mr. Butler asked the fourteen-year-old Kenny. He said it loudly so those around them could hear that he’d asked. He already knew the answer.

Bob Butler was the scout leader of the boy’s club troop Kenny was in. The boys had gone bowling this evening in lieu of a regular meeting. They were standing at the glass doors, watching the first flakes of the promised snow, just a dusty predicted tonight, although the ski slopes to the west would get their first layer before morning.

“I told you they’d both be out tonight ... that they told me to get a cab. Will they let me call for one at the desk?” Kenny looked at Butler expectantly. This was a surface game they’d played for several weeks.

“Why waste money on a cab, Kenny? I can drive you home. Will one of your parents be there?”

“I don’t think so. They’re both out most evenings. But, it’s OK, I stay there by myself a lot.” Kenny’s parents were busy people. His father was a lawyer trying to break into politics. His mother, in addition to her financial counseling job, was what was known as a club woman. She kept a high profile in social service activities, which she said was to help support her husband’s political ambitions. Kenny hadn’t been planned, and he wasn’t their first priority.

“Well, maybe we can swing by my shop for some ice cream and then they might be home later.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Would you like to spend some time with me, Kenny?”

“Yes, I’d like that, Mr. Butler.” Butler knew the boy was starved for attention.

Butler parked behind the ice cream parlor. He owned and managed the business. He parked and they sat there for a couple of minutes, just looking at each other across the seats in Butler’s Porsche Cayman.

Kenny grimaced and his hand went to his neck. He twisted his neck back and forth.

“Sore?” Butler asked.

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I keep in good shape. Baseball and swimming and I’ve started in football. I use the muscles.”

“Each sport has its own muscles to challenge,” Butler said, twisting in the driver’s seat and reaching over to grip the back of Kenny’s neck, massaging it and then the boy’s shoulders on either side, as he reached over Kenny with his left hand and found the lever that reclined the boy’s seat. His face was hovering over Kenny’s. He didn’t pull the left hand back fully, but let it rest on the boy’s chest, testing Kenny’s pecs.

“That feel better?” he asked.

“Ummm. It feels good,” Kenny answered.

“Yes, you do seem to be in good shape,” Butler murmured. His face came down to Kenny’s and they kissed. Butler’s left hand went to the boy’s basket and Kenny opened the stance of his legs to give Butler greater access.

They had been this far a couple of times before.

Butler came out of the kiss, his left hand going back to the seat lever, and Kenny’s seat came back up. “Let’s go inside for that ice cream,” he said, his voice hoarse.

They went in through the back. Butler paused at a door off the hallway that led to the kitchen area and then to the front of the store. His hand went into the space beyond the doorway and the lights came on in a small business office.

“Let’s stop here first.” Kenny moved to the doorway, paused for the two to exchange a meaningful look, and then passed into the office and over to the desk. Butler entered the room, closed the door, and turned the lock. There was a window shade the glass in the door, and he pulled that down.

“Sit on top of the desk and let me get a good look at you.”

Kenny sat on the desk. When he looked back to the door, Butler was unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out. He was in erection. The man wrapped his hand around it. This wasn’t a surprise for Kenny. They’d been here before too.

“You too, Kenny,” Butler said.

Kenny unzipped himself and took his cock out too. They held there momentarily, watching each other fondling and manipulating their cocks. Kenny was hard now too. He was a nice size for his age. Butler was appreciably bigger.

“I’d like to see just how good a shape you’re in, Kenny. Take it all off. Can you do that for me, son?”

Kenny could. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and then unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down to the floor, along with his briefs. He was still wearing his sneakers and athletic socks. He could hear Butler’s heavy breathing from across the room.

“The shoes and socks too?” he asked in an innocent voice.

“No, that’s not necessary. You’re a beautiful young man,” Butler said, his voice sounding strained, his hand stroking his cock. “Your sports work is doing a good job of developing you.”

Kenny smiled, happy at the compliment and delighted to be getting the intimate attention. He leaned back on his elbow on the desk, lowering his head to the palm of his hand. He fluttered his eyelashes at the man across the room, who was in great shape himself. “Do you like me like this, Mr. Butler?”

“Yes, very much. Is this OK, Kenny?” Butler asked. “You aren’t scared of me, are you?”

“No, I like you, Mr. Butler. You’re nice to me. You give me attention.”

“You don’t mind this. You and me, like this?”

“I like you a lot. I like this.”

Butler came across the room and bent over Kenny, cupping the back of Kenny’s head, turning the boy’s face to him and pulling Kenny into a kiss. His hand brushed Kenny’s hand off his cock, and replaced it with his own hand. Kenny shuddered. Butler pulled his lips away and he looked down into Kenny’s eyes. “You OK, Kenny. This is OK?”

“Yes,” Kenny answered, his voice breathless.

“And this?” His hand left Kenny’s hard cock and moved between the boy’s thighs. Kenny spread them and Butler moved a hand under the boy’s buttocks, rimmed the boy’s hole momentarily with his middle finger, and then pressed it inside.

Kenny gasped and jerked, but he responded in a strangled voice, “Yes. Shit yes.”

They hadn’t gone this far before. Butler lowered his face to Kenny’s and took him in another kiss. His finger penetrated further and he started moving it, slowly, in and out. Kenny began moving his hips with the finger fuck. Butler lowered his left arm that he’d had under Kenny’s back, supporting the boy, and lowered Kenny to his back on the desk. He was hovering over Kenny and took both of those cocks in his left hand, wrapping them together and stroking them, frotting them together.

They were both breathing heavily. Kenny’s body was moving against the finger inside his ass and the hand wrapping their cocks together.

“Oh, shit. Fuck!” he cried out. “Now, now. Put it in me! Your dick. Stick your dick in me!”

And then he came. Ignoring the plea, Butler came down for a kiss again, and Kenny’s hands went to the back of the man’s head and his fingers buried themselves in the man’s hair, the fingers flexing open and closed to the rhythm of the man’s finger fucking his ass. Butler was stroking his own cock and he tensed, jerked, and ejaculated on Kenny’s belly.

The man stood up, pulling his finger out of Kenny’s ass. His face had a questioning, concerned look on it. “You OK, Kenny? Was that--?”

“That was great, Mr. Butler. I liked it ... a lot. I like you. You can do what you want.”

The kid was begging for it, but Butler was working at this with care.

“I liked it a lot too, Kenny,” he said. “And I like you. You’re a real honey. In great shape.”

Kenny beamed. He worked hard at having a good body--of being wanted. And, he increasingly realized, being wanted by a man.

“Do you want ... are you going to--?”

“Here. You can use this to clean off,” Butler said, handing Kenny a fistful of tissues pulled out of a box that was on the desktop. “Let’s go get that ice cream now. You can have anything in the shop. Anything at all.”

“I thought ... maybe.” That wasn’t exactly what Kenny wanted. He wanted it all. He wanted to be able to do what his friend, Paul, did. He wanted to be able to buy a Radica Speed Racer device like his friend, Paul, had shown him when he told Kenny how he’d paid for it.

Butler just smiled at him and said, let’s go get that ice cream.

They chatted at the front of the shop, while Kenny worked on a banana split and Bob Butler sat across the table from him, sipping coffee, drinking in the fresh innocence of the luscious young boy, and made plans.

“It’s still snowing. More than was promised,” Butler said, looking out of the window at the front of the shop.

“It hasn’t stuck to the road yet,” Kenny said, his eyes following the direction Butler’s had taken when he tore them away from Kenny.

“It will be snowing well at Breckenridge,” Butler said. “You know we could do a weekend troop outing up to Breckenridge two weekends from now. There’s that ski skills badge we could work on. I have use of a cabin up there then. You done any skiing, Kenny?”

“A little, but I don’t do it too well. I like it, though.”

“I’m good. I could teach it. Ski lessons. A weekend outing, learning to ski better.”

“Is the cabin big enough for all of the guys?” Kenny asked.

“I was thinking just the two of us, Kenny. We could say the troop is going. You could tell your parents that. You say they don’t pay much attention to you, that they wouldn’t ask too many questions if you told them it was a troop outing. But it could be just you and me.” He looked around the shop. There were just the two of them there. The snow was keeping people away and wit was getting late. He slipped his foot out of his loafers and raised it and placed it between Kenny’s thighs, on his basket. Kenny gasped and squeezed his thighs on the foot, moving one of his hands below the tabletop, holding Butler’s foot in place. Butler pressed in with his foot and Kenny gave a little moan.

“Would you like that, Kenny?”

“Yes.”

“You said ‘maybe’ just now in my office. Breckinridge could be our ‘maybe.’ In a log cabin, in front of a fire in the stone fireplace, just the two of us with all night ahead of us. Do you think that would be a good place to turn a ‘maybe’ into a ‘done’?”

“Yes,” Kenny answered, breathless.

“You think plans for a troop ski trip will work with your parents?”

“Yes, they don’t give me any attention.”

“I will give you lots of attention, all of the attention you can handle.” He rocked his foot on Kenny’s basket and the boy moaned again. “Do you want me to give you lots of attention, Kenny?”

“Do what you want with me. Just be good to me; hold me close. We could go back to your office--”

“Finish your ice cream, Kenny. You’ll need to keep your strength up. It’s late. Your parents will be wondering where you are. It’s time to get you home.”

Butler let Kenny out a block from his house, stuffing a twenty-dollar bill in the boy’s pocket as he got out of the car. But it didn’t matter. The house was dark. His parents weren’t home yet from wherever they’d gone this evening. They wouldn’t even have known he was gone for the evening too. They wouldn’t have remembered what his plans were--or cared all that much, as long as he didn’t do anything that demanded their immediate attention. They wouldn’t even know if he bought himself a Radica Speed Racer or wondered how he had paid for it.

It was snowing again as Butler turned south on Route 9 off of I-70 west out of Denver. It was nearly noon. They’d been driving since early morning. Other than telling him to take his cellphone, which they no doubt wouldn’t call him on anyway, his parents hadn’t done more than said, “What a treat that trip will be. Have a ball.”

Kenny intended on being balled during this trip. Paul, who also was fourteen, had told him how he had made the money to buy his nifty electronic toys--how there was a certain street in Denver that he could stand on but didn’t have to stand there long before some car stopped for him. “The men go ape over young, good-looking guys like us,” Paul had said. “But you have to know what to do--what the men are going to do to you. You have to be OK with it and have some experience.”

Kenny was OK with it--more than OK--and he’d known for some time that he would be. He knew he wanted to be with men--not with girls or boys; with men. But he didn’t have the experience. He needed experience. Mr. Butler had nosed around him enough that Kenny had hopes he would provide the experience. And Mr. Butler paid attention to him. But he was taking a long time to get around to the total experience part. Some experience, yes, but Paul had said he’d have to know how to go all the way--and maybe beyond. This ski trip surely would break the barrier on Kenny being fucked.

“We should be there in time enough to get in some skiing today,” Butler said. “There should be plenty of new snow.”

“That’s great,” Kenny said, not thinking about the skiing part of the trip. “But afterwards--”

“Yes, Kenny, I’m thinking about the afterwards too. But we need to be able to say and show we did some skiing.”

They did get in a couple of hours of skiing before sunset. Butler was good at his word about his abilities as a ski instructor. He took Kenny to the beginner’s slope and they spent considerable time working on the fundamentals. Butler took quite a few photos of Kenny, always making sure there were other boys in the background of the shot, practicing his skiing.

“I’ll send you the photos,” he told Kenny. “You can show them to your parents. I got other boys in the shots. They’ll think the whole troop was up here--that you were on the trip we said you were.” No selfies, alone or with Kenny, were involved. He’d made sure he himself wouldn’t be in any of those photos.

“That’s great,” Kenny said, knowing that it wasn’t necessary. His parents wouldn’t be interested in any evidence that he was on the trip he’d told them he was.

They had dinner at one of the resort’s restaurants near the ski slope. Butler ordered them both steaks with a mountain of fries. “You’ll need to be well fed tonight,” Butler said.

“I hope so,” Kenny said. And he certainly did. Let’s just get on with it, he was thinking.

The cabin was dark, and cold, when they got back. It was a log cabin, perching on the side of the mountain. Just one bedroom, a bath, and a living-dining-kitchen space on the upper floor. There were two more bedrooms and a bath on the floor below, pushed into the hillside. It was too small for the rest of the troop being here, but more than enough room for Kenny and Butler.

Butler turned up the thermostat by the front door. “Make us a fire,” he said. “I’ll put on a video and go get comfortable.”

The TV screen was huge and was over the fireplace. And deep-cushion sofa faced the fireplace. Kenny laid and lit the fire. When Butler came back, he was wearing a blue silk dressing gown--and nothing else.

This is it, Kenny thought, relieved but suddenly nervous.

He was right. The videos, set to run continuously, were all of muscular men fucking young boys.

Butler and Kenny were positioned on the sofa, making out, Kenny progressively being undressed, Butler not long in his robe. They were stretched out along the sofa, Butler on top of Kenny, trapping the boy under him. They were kissing. They’d already come once from stroking each other’s cocks--and again, new ground for them, when they were reversed on each other and sucking cock. This was new for the two of them, but it wasn’t entirely new for Kenny. Paul had already taught Kenny how to suck cock.

Kenny’s head was on the arm of the sofa, his neck cushioned by Butler’s left arm wrapped around it, Butler’s left hand stroking Kenny’s left nipple. Butler’s back was stretched along the back of the sofa with Kenny on his back beside him. Both were erect again. Butler had stroked Kenny’s inner thighs and Kenny, with a sigh, had opened his legs and turned his thighs out at the man’s gentle strokes and positioning of his legs and rolled his pelvis up to give the man access. Butler’s fingers were inside Kenny’s ass, opening him up.

They’d been here before. Kenny’s mind was obsessed with the question of whether they’d ever get further. He kept thinking about cherries getting popped and then that was it--it was all fun sex after that. He’d read about girls and their cherries. He thought in the same terms about himself. He was, after all, only fourteen.

“OK, baby? You OK going the whole way? You’ll take my cock?”

“Fuck me,” Kenny murmured breathlessly. Just get on with it, his mind was screaming. Stick it in; pop my cherry.

“You ever ... you’ve ever been--?”

“No. But I want it. I want it now, from you. Be my first.”

“We should use protection usually”--a small stack of condom packets lay on the top of the coffee table in front of the sofa, along with a bottle of lube. The lube had been used from time to time; the condoms hadn’t-- “but if this really is your first time ... you really should experience how it is raw ... we could...”

“Fuck me. Just stick it in me. Fuck my cherry out of me.” That’s the term the fourteen-year-old body thought of in his virginity to anal fucking being breached.

“Oh, baby. It’s gonna be so good.”

Butler pulled his fingers out and started to roll over on top of Kenny.

And then Kenny’s cellphone ran. Kenny stifled a moan in pulling the cellphone out of his trousers on the floor as Butler penetrated him with two fingers again and search for and found the boy’s prostate.

“Yes, Mom, it’s been a good day. We’re having a ball. We’re just hanging out together now.” Even if she heard Butler’s snigger in the background, she’d think it was one of the other boys.

Kenny clicked off and dropped the cellphone on the floor, and Butler rolled over on top of him, put his dickhead in position with his hand, and started forcing himself inside the boy for the first time. Kenny gasped and yelped, but the cock was inside him now. He took it and took it and took it. Kenny clung to the man, digging his fingernails into the man’s back muscles, holding Butler close to him, sobbing but refusing to tell him to stop when that was offered.

“Hold me, be good to me. Yes, Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Yes! You’ve got it! You got it, got it! You got my cherry! Fucckk!” Butler just kept on getting more and more of that cherry as Kenny learned more about what it meant to have a man inside him.

Kenny’s mind concentrated on the cock possessing him, dedicated to him, giving him attention. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he whimpered, and Butler did. The cocking was shallow, but it was what Kenny could take the first time, and it was beyond Kenny’s comprehension to understand that he hadn’t been fucked yet like he was going to be fucked. He hadn’t lost his cherry like he was going to lose it.

Afterward, Kenny lay there on the sofa, panting lightly, his legs held open. He was sore. It had been more painful at the start than he’d thought it would be. But he was smiling and overwhelmed with a sense of satisfaction and relief. Butler was off somewhere else. The video was still running, the young man in the video was sitting on the muscle hunk’s cock and being bounced up and down on it. Kenny watched the video. He was younger that the bottom in the video and Mr. Butler was older than the top. Kenny watched the expression on the face of the bottom as the top was all the way in him and bouncing him up and down on the cock, and Kenny shuddered. Paul had told him this was the way it would be with most of the men who would pick him up in cars. They’d do it right there in the car, with Kenny sitting on the man’s dick and being bounced up and down on it.

He was being to understand that Mr. Butler hadn’t fucked him like that--at least not yet. Butler had been more gentle with him, less demanding. He’d been inside him yes, but not like that ... not like he saw on the screen. Not to the root and not slamming it in him like that. His cherry had been popped, but it hadn’t been wrenched out of him ... yet.