Page 29 of Little Boy Toy

His uncontained laughter filled me up. I joined in, swinging him around as another large wave came over us, around us. I took him under with me. He clung like he never wanted to let go.

We popped up, Kendry still laughing, half-choking now.

I pulled him to me and patted his back. “Are you drowning?”

“It’s wonderful!”

We stayed in the water playing together, touching and hugging, until our fingertips wrinkled.

My stomach growled. I heard his echo mine.

“Let’s go in and have a snack,” I suggested.

“Okay. Then can we play with the toys?”

“Sure. Sandcastles and beach balls. Whatever you want.”

Sand rose up around our wet feet, dotting our ankles and calves. We sat on the blanket, our feet over the edge, and snacked on the fruit plate I’d brought.

“Ready for a sandwich yet?” I asked.

“Sure. Then we can make our castle while our food digests and go back in?”

“Sounds like a plan. We can take the raft.”

“Yeah!”

I brought out fresh chicken salad sandwiches on thick wheat bread. We each devoured two. For a small guy, Kendry ate a lot. We had both worked up quite an appetite.

We sunned for a while. Then I opened the net bag of molds, shovels and buckets. It was a large bag. I had gotten the big one because I wanted to play in the sand, too.

Kendry sat up, wiping at his eyes. “I want the red bucket.”

I handed it over with a yellow shovel.

He jumped up and ran to the damp part of the shore but still well away from the encroaching wavelets. He began digging into the sand with his little shovel.

I walked toward him with the big bag of toys, then poured them all out until they surrounded him.

“Oh, wow!” He picked them up one by one.

With two molds in his hand, he ran to the water and filled them with very wet sand. He brought it back and turned them over, lifting them gently and creating a part of our castle wall.

“Good start.”

I took a bucket down to the water’s edge and filled it up. I did that four or five times making a pile of wet sand for Kendry to mold. He set to work as if he knew exactly what he was doing, digging for drier sand on some molds, wetter for others.

I brought a bucket of water up in case we needed it to wet the area.

Kendry’s knees were pale brown with sand. I could feel it between my toes.

Kendry was very bossy while building. He instructed me where to put my own molds, and how to smooth everything out and make sure it was strong enough not to crumble. I loved every moment.

My damp trunks slapped wetly against my thighs. Kendry was dressed much skimpier, but it was also wise. Nothing got in his way. He was graceful and streamlined as he went about his construction. I kept glancing at his ass when he turned, and watching his thighs tense as he knelt up and down. His flat stomach creased as he bent to tweak this or that tower. His shoulders were firm and wide for his stature. He was a strong little guy, lean muscles bunching all over.

I was so attracted to him, I could barely think. I had never had a lover as small as he was. I’d gone for the big muscle guys. But I heated up at the thought of Kendry in my bed, Kendry reaching up for me, demanding things from me with big-eyed, imploring gazes as his arms and legs wrapped around me.

Why had I never noticed pretty littles like him before at the clubs? I had been narrow in my thinking. I’d told him I’d given everything a try in my life, but really, that was a lie. I had my perceived tastes, and my youthful wild nature mainly looked to get off several times a night if I could manage it. I had watched just about everything I could, including daddies punishing their boys. But I’d always bypassed the littles playrooms in every club I went to. It had seemed too quiet, too sedate. Boring.

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