I guess you could call me the typical latchkey kid. Well for three days of the week when my mum was working her part time job at the supermarket.

It didn’t bother me as since turning 14 like every other adolecent boy it was nice to have some ‘private’ time. What did though was my lack of growth. As all my friends matured I seemed to be stuck in my slim 5ft 6 frame. My face still smooth as silk ... It also effected my confidence. As my friends matured and gained their’s I was getting more inward. My shyness seeming to be getting worse. I had been told I was ‘cute’ but it didn’t help when all you wanted to do was grow up.

I was putting the key into the back door to let myself in when I heard are neighbour Mr Jackson call out. His head with the bald crown ringed with white hair poking over the top of the fence.

“Hi Jonathan. Is your mum home yet?” He called out.

His beady eyes looking out from thick framed glasses which sat on top of a large nose. He had been are neighbour since we moved here five years ago. A portly man in his early seventies who I was on nodding terms with.

“Err. No Mr Jackson. She’s still at work” I replied.

“Oh. Its just. I finally have some flower seeds she asked about. You couldn’t just pop over and get them?”

His head disappeared before I could even answer. Not that I would of refused. I was to meek and nice for that so I unlocked the back door and threw my school bag into the kitchen, letting it slide across the tiled floor before pushing myself through a small gap where the fence ended and a hedge started near the house. It was a handy spot to retrieve stray footballs when they ended up in Mr Jacksons garden.

I saw his large frame walking towards his shed at the bottom of his garden so followed. By the time I got there and stood in the doorway Mr Jackson had his back to me and was looking through the draws of a cabinet hanging off the wall muttering about where he had pug them. I left him to his search and ran my eyes over the interior of his shed. Garden tools ran neatly along the back wall. A window looked out across the garden with a view of his house. A wooden table was positioned underneath which looked like it was used for potting.

There was a stool tucked under it and what looked like a couple of boxes full of junk. The thing that drew my eye was a glossy magazine that lay at a odd angle on top of one of them. I got a glimpse of legs clad in stockings and high heels and found myself tilting my head to get a better angle.

“Oh. I’m sorry Jonathan. I thought I had put that away.”

I had been so engrossed in trying to see the magazine I hadn’t realized Mr Jackson had turned around and jumped in surprise. I felt my cheeks turn red as I looked up at him. Embarrassed at being caught I found myself unable to replie and stood there like a rabbit in the headlights. He chuckle and smiled kindly.

“Its ok Jonathan. Its my fault for leaving it out like that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I find it best to keep this sort of thing out of the house.”

I returned a shy smile back as he lent down and pushed the magazine further under the table before straightening and holding out a envelope of which I assumed where the seeds. He must of seen my quick glance back under the table because he paused keeping the seeds slightly out of my reach. I saw him turning something over in his mind for a second before saying.

“Have you ever seen one of these mags Jonathan?.”

The question surprised me and I was a little dumbfounded for a second but managed to shake my head... “Would you like to look at it? You dont have to” He smiled reassuring.

I found myself looking back down to where it was. The truth was I really wanted to but felt embarrassed to admit it to this elderly man even though it was clear it was something he looked at himself. I nearly refused but finally I gave a little nod. Well to the floor rather than to Mr Jackson.

He pulled the stool out and sat down. Leaning under the table he fished the magazine out and placed it on the table closer to me. I stood in the doorway looking at the enticing cover ‘RAZZLE’ emblazoned across the top with a woman dressed in underwear standing in high heels. Her legs apart.

“Well. Dont be shy Jonathan. Come in” Mr Jackson said smiling.

I gave a awkward smile back realising how silly I must look standing there dumbly. I stepped into the shed and stood infront of the table, the magazine infront of me. I took a trembling hand and opened the cover. I turned the pages a couple of times till I came to the first spread. A brunette in stockings and suspenders was draped over a sofa. My eyes drawn to her naked breasts. I had viewed my mothers clothes catalogues at times. Looking through the underwear sections but this was so much more. Every time I turned a page she was in a more obscene pose. Her thighs wider apart. Shamelessly displaying her cunt. The further I went into the spread she was going so far as to touch it ... I got to a picture where she was pushing her fingers inside of her cunny. By now my heart was thumping in my ears. Even though Mr Jackson was sitting near me I couldn’t stop my young cock getting stiff in my school trousers. In fact it had been swelling in my Y fronts since I opened the magazine but it felt like a rod of iron now.

Trapped inside my pants my swollen bellend had slowly pushed sideways under the elastic of my Y fronts and was now pressed against my thigh. The burning gland hot on my skin. I realized my smooth young 5 inch cock must be making a visible bulge in my trousers and I found myself putting my left hand in my pocket something I always did to try and hide a unforeseen erection. A action that didn’t go unnoticed by Mr Jackson.

“I like her to Jonathan. She looks like a dirty slut. Imagine sliding your hard cock in that tight pussy.”

I turned my gaze from the magazine and gave Mr Jackson a shy smile. My cheeks felt on fire but I couldn’t deny what he said. It was what I was thinking. I hadn’t even kissed a girl so to think of such a thing was unimaginable to me. The other surprise was Mr Jackson. The way he came out with such words was strange but erotic. It was just as exciting as the imagers.

“I get so hard looking at these sluts. Can you imagine her bent over this table and pushing your hard on into that wet cunt.”

I didn’t think I could be more turned on but my elderly neighbour was saying all the right things as I returned my gaze to the mag. I traced the outline of my swollen helmet through the thin material of my pocket lining with my fingertips. I could feel a bubble of pre cum already seeping out leaving a cooling damp spot on my thigh and trousers. I realized he could probably see the motion of my bulging hand in my pocket and stopped.