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A waitress serves a divorced couple dinner, and rather more!



But before she could say something Mrs Ricketson entered and began the business of issuing each boy a tray of finger food and despatching him to the living room, not without taking a lingering look at each fella's middle...a long look, with a curling smile showing on her lips, which was enough to make each boy want to sink through the floor.

"There, Mark, that door...in you go, and show yourself off to the ladies. And the girls...some of them will be very keen to see you."

So first to enter was a bashful, stumbling Mark, holding a tray of petite cucumber sandwiches. He was conscious all the ladies looked in his direction and were all curious about a near-naked young man with his private parts visible under the sheen of his tights. In fact his broad shouldered swimmer's body tapered into the lime coloured tights as if he had been born with them. In the groin they could see his thick penis settled on squashed, bulky balls, and if truth be told already starting to fill out, outlined clearly. On the point of rearing.

Mark was terrified he would soon be sporting a boner.

Miss Emma Humphrey, aunt of the state's famous Senator, could not take her eyes off the bundle- not even to admire Mark's cute little bow tie or his flat tummy . Her eyes were bulging. And, thought Miss Tina Gray, spinster of 65 years, staring hard at the boy's bulky privates, "How much bigger than what we see on statues, those Greeks and Romans in the art histories!"

Mark froze in front of the transfixed ladies at the table, holding his tray at waist level, hoping it would shelter him.

Coyly, the female hands moved to the tray.

Eyes stayed fixed on the sight below it.

He gulped, as he saw Selena Cross- auburn haired and tall and thin as a witch, standing behind her seated mother- swipe a voracious glimpse of his privates. Shit, she was in his Science class. She lived two streets off. She had been to his house- and his sisters may have shown her pics of him swimming. Either way, her look was...hungry and focused.

His mushroomy glans fleshed out...

...and pushed away from his scrotum...

...and poked forward.

It was a slight movement.

None of the females missed it.

Certainly not Selena.

Who unconsciously touched her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Then Stevie entered. All female eyes swung his way. His nude upper body was aflame with black hair; it swarmed across his chest, down his tummy, flowed into the waistband of those lime-coloured tights; the flimsiest imaginable tights. His thin, short little penis was at full stand, pointing right up, stretching the fabric- he had been rampant most of the day, given his thrilling excitement knowing all these ladies would be looking him over- staring at his hairy chest, his little penis, his pint-sized balls.

Standing before a table of women folk- hell! he noticed Mrs Bosie Bullock, one of his Mom's oldest friends and she was staring right at his stiff dick!- he balanced his tray and shuddered. His erection pulsed. He knew that it was only a matter of time before that telltale fluid would flow from its tip and inevitably, after a further wait, goaded by all those female eyes and smiles, he would deliver a full bodied emission- splosh!- just as at that session where they had tried on the tights with those female teachers when he had astonished himself with a sudden emission, or in those sessions with Mrs Lavender when she had girls his age come to her house to watch him play piano.

Mrs Mildred Slink, whose husband was as hairless as a new born babe, trembled at the sweet fantasy of cuddling this hirsute young man, tingling at the tickle of his swirling body hair. Old Miss Hardcastle, pillar of the Episcopalian Church Ladies Guild, had never seen an erection in her life and stared at the jutting in the boy's groin: the stiff little stem and the suggestion of the hat on the end of the stem.

Standing rooted to the floor behind her seated mother Betty Anderson, with a ribbon across her golden hair, stared as if her eyes would pop right out of their sockets.

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