If there had been even one small shred of doubt still in Jethro Gibbs' mind concerning just how tightly twelve-year old Tony DiNozzo was wrapped and held captive by the fickle whims and impulses of puberty, it immediately disappeared the moment he settled into his bed on the second night of the boy's visit and began hearing the muffled moans and groans filtering through the thin wall seperating his bedroom from that of the youth's. At first, concerned the boy was feeling ill from all the junk he'd consumed during the day's outing or had injured himself in some freakish manner, Jethro quickly started to head in that direction to assist, only to pull up short when he recognized the distinctively erotic sounds emerging from the guest room. Although the noises were relatively quiet and subdued, there was no mistaking the fact Tony was indulging in what had recently become one of his favorite, solitary hobbies: masturbation. Jethro sighed, shook his head in resignation, and returned to his own bed, hoping to tune everything out and get some sleep, especially since he'd spent the past ten hours in pursuit of experiencing every roller coaster and thrill ride available...some more than once...at the local amusement park.

Jethro rolled over onto his side and settled his head on the blissfully soft pillow, releasing a huff of pleasure as he flexed his aching feet beneath the smooth, cool sheets, knowing the hard concrete he'd trod upon all day long was responsible for the two new blisters and the light, spasming pains he was now experiencing. Plus, if he wrinkled his nose just right, he could feel the stretch of tender skin directly below where his sunglasses had rested and where he'd, obviously, forgotten to dab any sunscreen. He sighed and shifted restlessly to his back, arching his spine against the pliant fabric and stretching his srms out over his head, knuckles brushing the wooden headboard. It felt so good just to be off his feet, laying down, and resting. He hadn't actually realized how tiring a day at an amusement park could be until he'd stepped out of the wonderfully hot shower and slipped on a pair of clean, soft boxers, preparing himself for sleep. Almost before setting a foot out of the steamy bathroom, he'd felt the tug toward his bed and heard the sweet, whispering siren's song of slumber. Closing his eyes, he could feel himself starting to drift...

"...uh...ohh...ummm..." the muted sounds continued from the next room.

Jethro relunctantly opened his eyes and searched for a spot on the ceiling, the darkened room not allowing him to find a good focal point. His eyes drifted as the moans floated over his body, caressing, reminding the flesh of his own lack of recent companionship and physical relief. Jethro didn't want to dwell on those thoughts. Not now. Pushing his hands under the pillow and bringing each side up to cover his ears, he worked to resist the temptation that would lead his weak, wandering mind down the path to self-gratification. It just didn't seem appropriate, almost as if he was somehow intruding on the youth's privacy, by allowing his traitorous body to react in any way to what he knew was happening on the other side of the thin wall. He was an adult, albiet a young one, and should be able to control unwanted physical impulses. The only problem with that logic was this physical impulse wasn't really unwanted.

The faint moans continued to taunt him.

Jethro groaned softly and rolled awkwardly onto his stomach, trapping his partially-erect flesh against the mattress, and pulling the pillow until his head was buried beneath it like an ostrich. He realized, almost immediately, that the fluffy cushion wasn't really doing much to block out sounds and all he wanted was for Tony to hurry up and get it over with. Just how long could he possibly go on, anyway? Relunctantly, Jethro recalled the conversation they'd had while eating their lunch today and how adamant Tony had been when describing his favorite time to masturbate. Now, the words were coming back to haunt him.

'...right before I go to sleep. That's the best time, you know?' The boy had confided honestly. 'I can stretch out on my bed and just take my time. No rushing...I don't have to worry about hurrying through it. I don't like to hurry.'

"Well, shit," Jethro mumbled under his breath and under his pillow, the words lost through the thick layers of feathers and fabric. He knew he was going to have to talk to the youth about keeping his voice lowered and, maybe, discuss the possibility that Candace was upset because she could hear what he was doing in his room each night before he went to sleep. That would go over big.

"...oh...oh...oh..."

Jethro though Tony was getting closer now because the moans were more frequent and, unbelievably, growing in volume. The ex-Marine shifted, again, to his back and listened to the sounds as they continued to build, imagining the strong, young body striving to reach it's orgasmic goal, slender fingers working over the smooth, sensitized skin, learning the strokes and touches that gave the most pleasure. In his mind's eye, he could see Tony spread out on the bed, mouth parted, eyes closed in concentration, body arching...


"Come on, Tony," he whispered, clenching his teeth in frustration at the unwanted mental images. "Come on. Just let go."

"...uh...uhh...uhhh..."

Jethro squeezed his eyes together as one traitorous hand worked it's way beneath the sheet, fingers questing for the hard length of flesh covered by the cotton boxers. He knew this was wrong, didn't want to examine the implications of getting an erection while listening to a twelve-year old boy masturbate, but just wanted a little relief, too. He gripped himself solidly through the thin material and listened to the sounds from the other room, biting his lip to keep from uttering any noise. This was not good. Surely, it wouldn't be too much longer. Would it?

But the sounds continued: more strident, more frequent, more everything.

Jethro felt the urge to slip his fingers under the waistband and stroke himself intensify, to get bare skin on bare skin. Just a few sharp pulls would be all he needed...

'NO!'

Pushing the temptation back, Jethro eased up on the death grip he had on his erection and forced his hand away, a bit of anger bubbling up into the mix of emotions. He clenched his teeth tighter, hearing them grind under the pressure. He pressed the heels of both trembling hands to his eyes, feeling the makings of a headache beginning to build at the base of his skull. This was just ridiculous. No twelve-year old boy should take this long the ejaculate and, if Tony didn't get the deed done soon, Jethro thought he'd just have to get up and go into the boy's room and show...

Jethro froze. 'Where the *hell* did that thought come from?'

The ex-Marine sat abruptly up, flung back the covers, and swung his strong legs over the side of the bed, drawing a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs. This was not good. This was not right. He shook his head in an obvious attempt to physically dislodge any more unwanted thoughts from taking hold within his tired, confused brain. This was Tony. This was the boy he'd seen blossom from a scared, damaged six-year old into this glorious, open youth. He wasn't suppose to be feeling this...whatever it was...for him. Jethro thought back to the time at the cabin, remembering the scars, the bruises, the damage to the young soul. He remembered the tears, the fear, the broken sound of the child's voice as he hesitantly told some of what he'd experienced at the hands of Robert DiNozzo.

Robert DiNozzo.

Now, there was a sure-fire way to wilt an erection. Jethro took another steadying breath, held it for a moment, and gradually released it in a controlled hiss. Better. This was better. More control was good. Yep, he could control this now.

The sounds from next door became ragged grunts, roughly escalating and hitting a peak. The noise suddenly ceased, and was followed quickly by a long, drawn-out rasp, dwindling into small painfully, pleasure-filled hisses. Jethro held his breath and waited.

Silence.

Finally.

The ex-Marine flopped bonelessly back on the wide bed, legs still over the edge, both arms flung wide to each side, and looked once more to the ceiling. He knew he was going to have to do something if this was going to be a nightly occurence and realized it really wasn't the fact that Tony was masturbating that bothered him. Masturbating was a normal activity for any healthy boy. He was glad the youth felt comfortable in his environment, glad they were able to discuss deeply personal issues, and extremely glad they had this week to reconnect. He hadn't realized, until today at the park, how much Tony needed someone he could talk to without feeling embarrassed or inadequate and was inordinately pleased he was able to fill the position of confidant in the youth's life. Tony would be able to ask his questions and recieve as much information as he needed to be satisfied about his developing sexuality, without anyone worrying about him picking up fabrications from his equally confused friends.

What did bother him was the way his body had reacted to the sounds of Tony's activity. Surely, it had been nothing more than an indicator the man was in dire need of looking up a few 'appropriate' friends of his own and submitting to a round or two of his much-desired physical relief. Right? That had to be it. Had to be.

Or, maybe, it was time to get back into the dating scene. His mind quickly flashed to the young woman who'd recently filled a position at the coffee shop he frequented and of the sultry, interested look she'd tossed his way the last time he'd been there. Her blue eyes had communicated her availibility eloquently and the wide smile had held just the right amount of shyness to assure she wasn't jaded to the hopes of having someone a bit more permanent in her life. Jethro felt his stomach clench briefly, a wisp of Mike pushing at his memory, and knew taking the first step was always the hardest.

Sighing, Jethro pulled himself back onto the bed and worked his way between the sheets, settling again into the much-welcomed embrace of his mattress. With the apartment now blanketed in stillness, it was easy to let all thoughts of Tony and masturbating and dating slide away until another time. At this very moment, sleep just seemed like the best course of action. Sleep was good. Turning once more to his side, Jethro closed his eyes, willed away all thoughts, and slowly drifted away.

When Tony finally emerged from his room the next morning, Jethro was already on his second cup of coffee and had the newspaper spread out before him on the kitchen table. It looked to be another gorgeous day, full of sunshine and low humidity, and Jethro figured they would just spend time soaking up the rays by the pool, grabbing a bite to eat at one of the local pizzerias, and, maybe, catching a movie early in the evening. He was determined to keep Tony occupied but still wanted to give him ever opportunity to talk about whatever struck his fancy. Jethro knew there had to be quite a lot, especially after the numerous revelations from yesterday, and, of course, there was still the clitoris conversation to tackle.

"Sleep good?" Jethro asked without looking up from the sports section. "I've got stuff to make pancakes if you..."

He glanced up and immediately stopped talking when he saw the boy standing by the doorway, face filled with contrite apology and arms laden with his bed linens. The sleep-tossled hair and baggy t-shirt reminded Jethro of a young child instead of an adolescent boy.

"Gunny," Tony whispered with remorse, "I'm sorry."

Jethro put the folded section of newspaper down and sat fully back in his chair, disbelief and a bit of amazement at the sight before him. "You had a wet dream?"

Tony nodded and lowered his eyes to the floor, twin spots of pink appearing on his cheeks.

"Even after you masturbated last night?" He asked before thinking.

The youth's eyes flew up to meet Jethro's. "You...you heard me?"

Jethro bit his tongue but didn't think once about lying to the boy. "Yes, I did. The walls in here are pretty thin and you were very...ah...vocal."

"Oh," Tony's blush deepened and he gripped the sheets tight to his chest, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. "Sorry. I can wash these myself if you just tell me where the machine is."

"Last door on the left as you go down the hall. You'll find detergent and softener on the shelf. You sure you can manage by yourself?"

The youth nodded again. "Been doing the laundry since Jimmy died."

When nothing else was said, Tony turned and headed in the direction of the washer and dryer. Jethro watched the retreat and sighed, pushing back from the table and carrying his now-empty mug to the coffee maker, cautiously refilling the ceramic cup. The fragrant vapor slowly rose and bathed his face in the soothing, familiar aroma. He took a swift sip, carefully avoiding burning his lips or tongue, and began gathering the ingredients to make some pancakes. He heard the sound of water filling the washing machine, detected the 'thunk' when the lid was closed, and knew Tony would reappear soon. He turned away from the counter and rested one hip back against the solid support, determined to meet the youth head on and with no bull-shit.

He watched Tony silently enter the kitchen, move to the cabinet where the glasses were kept, and reach for the refrigerator, pulling the plastic gallon of milk from its spot in the door's slot. He filled the glass almost to the top, took a tentative sip to get it at an appropriate level for transportation, and returned the container back to its place, carefully closing the heavy door. He moved to the table and sat across from where he'd seen Jethro sitting, looking up only when he felt the man's solid bulk at his side.

Jethro could see the boy was content to wait for what he figured was going to be some kind of reprimand, apology still visible in the green depths. He put his mug on the table, pulled out of the closest chair, and moved until he was almost in Tony's space.

"It's okay, you know," he started out, gently pushing a hand through the boy's tossled hair. "We talked about this yesterday."

"Yeah, but we didn't say anything about you hearing me while I did it."

Jethro grinned at the honesty. "No, we sure didn't. Tony, do you suppose that's why Candace is upset with you? Do you think she can hear you?"

Obviously, the thought had never crossed Tony's mind and he dropped his head to the table, hands clasping at the base of his skull. "Okay, now I really have a reason to be embarrassed. I'm never going to jerk-off at home again."

Jethro chuckled at the boy's dramatics and whacked him gently on the back of his still-lowered head. "Yeah, right. Like I'd ever believe that. Now, get your mouth off my table...I've got to eat there, you know."

Tony raised his face and smiled, reaching for the glass of milk and watching as Jethro moved back to start the pancakes. He slowly moved to the counter, too, and hopped up to sit close, drinking his milk and following the precise movements as the thick batter was prepared.

"Gunny, are the walls really thin or am I just too loud?" He asked, sticking one finger into the thick goop and tasting it.

"I seriously hope you washed your hands this morning, mister," he chided, using an elbow to push the wandering digits away. Jethro considered the question and formed his response carefully, keeping his hands busy with the task. "The walls are pretty thin, yes, but you were kind of loud. Tony, there's nothing wrong with vocalizing your pleasure. I'm sure some of your future partners will really appreciate hearing how turned on you are by what's happening but, and here's when you've got to really hear what I'm saying, you've got to have enough sense to remember where you are and who else could, unknowingly, be exposed to all that noise."

"Noise?" The youth actually sounded offended by the use of the word. "Just what do I sound like?"

Jethro turned and met the gaze, seeing the position on the counter had brought Tony to his eye level. "Haven't you ever listened to yourself?"

"Well, *no*. I'm usually kind of busy doing other things at the time," he smiled shyly, happy he could say such open things to his Gunny and not feel funny about it. He could never imagine talking to Candace like this. Candace. "Gunny, what am I going to say to Candace when I get home?"

"Why do you have to say anything?" The man asked as he scooped some batter and ladled it onto the hot, flat pan. "Look, I really think you just need to focus on being quieter when you do it at home. She'll figure out that we've spoken about it and found a way to 'fix' the problem."

"So, you don't think she really believes I just do it too much?"

"No," Jethro shook his head and flipped the cooking disks on to the other sides. "I think it just disturbs her to hear you doing it. She's no fool, Tony. She knows you're going to continue doing it, no matter what, and that our little talk has helped. It has, hasn't it? You understand about being discreet now?"

"Yep," the youth nodded. "That's me. Discreet. Uh, do I have to be discreet while I'm here, too?"

Jethro levered the cooked pancakes from the heat, transferred them to a plate, and added more batter. "Honestly, I think it would be good practice for you. That way, when you do go home, you'll already have it perfected...or close to being perfected. And, frankly, I would appreciate it."

There was silence as Tony digested the last sentence.

"So, it disturbs you to hear me doing it, too?" He finally asked.

Jethro flipped the next set of pancakes and sighed, blue eyes turning to meet green. This needed to be done very carefully.

"It doesn't really disturb me, Tony, it's just that the male body reacts to different stimulation, whether it's touch or sight or sound, even smells sometimes, in different ways. Hearing you last night was...difficult."

Tony frowned. "I don't understand."

Jethro turned the flame off from beneath the pan and shifted it from the burner. "Let me try again. When I heard you last night, I realized it's been a very long time since I'd been with another person sexually and that I need to be with someone."

"Well, you're with me now," the youth really wasn't getting it.

"No, Tony, that's not what I mean. Let me put it this way..."

"Oh!" The light bulb had finally gone on. "You want to have sex! Right?"

"Yes," Jethro was relieved at the boy's revelation. "I need to have sex."

"Well, what's stopping you?"

Jethro smiled at the easy question. "I'm not dating anyone right now, Tony, and, regardless of what Jeffery or any of your other friends may say, you can't just stop someone you think is attractive and ask for sex."

Tony giggled. "I guess not."

More silence filled the space as they moved their breakfast to the table and took their places but it was an easy, relaxed silence that boded well. Jethro watched Tony slather butter on his stack of hotcakes and then drench them in syrup, hastily licking at his fingers when they 'accidentally' ended up dripping with the sticky, sweet substance. He shot the boy a stern look and was given an angelic, innocent one back in return.

Halfway through the meal, Jethro felt Tony's eyes on him. He took a gulp of coffee to help clear his mouth and met the direct gaze.

"What?"

"What's stopping you?"

"I thought we already settled that."

"No, we just agreed it wasn't a good idea to ask for sex from some stranger. But what about from someone you know? I mean, you've got friends, right? Wouldn't one of them help you out? Jeffery wanted to do me."

"Yes, and you made it perfectly clear to me how you felt about that."

"Well, yeah, but, you know, I've got other friends..." he let the thought trail off unfinished.

Jethro put his fork down and focused all his attention on the boy. "What are you saying?"

"Well, there's a couple of friends who, if they wanted to, you know, I might..."

"Tony," Jethro stopped him, "are you talking about 'boy' friends here or 'girl' friends?"

"Both, I guess."

"I'd like to make a suggestion and, I realize you will be tempted to do whatever your body or your friends propose, but, at your age, it's better to keep this part all to yourself. You're still learning so much about your own changing body right now, why confuse it with contending with someone else's body. You should be old enough and experienced enough to know how to handle anything that could arise. Remember what you told me about Jeffery? About how he really likes to jerk himself hard?"

"Yeah?"

"What makes you think he's the only one who likes it like that?"

Tony sat back and stared at Jethro. "I guess I never really thought much about it."

"Well, you should. There's going to be a lot of pressure on you to try things, things that may make you uncomfortable..."

"But what about the things that could make me feel good?"

"There will be those, too, but you won't know until you've got your hands on someone else or they have their hands on you. It may be too late by then to reconsider. Jeffery got pretty angry when you wouldn't touch him and...you still have issues with things that happened to you in the past."

"Issues?" Tony tasted the word and cocked his head at Jethro. "For a minute there you almost sounded like Doctor Amberg."

"That a good thing or a bad thing?"

One shoulder shrugged. Tony was now only pushing the rest of his breakfast around on the plate, all thoughts of eating gone. He stared at the man, trying to not to get angry, knowing Gunny was just hoping to help. He sighed loudly and rose from the table, taking his plate to the garbage can and pushing the scraps into the bin. He took it to the sink and began running hot water, filling the sink and adding just the right amount of dishwashing soap. Another chore he was obviously familiar with. Jethro sighed and rose as well, moving to stand directly behind the boy and reaching his arms around to engulf the slighter body in a hug, feeling the tension slowly subside.

"You know I love you, don't you?" He asked softly, letting his chin rest on the boy's head.

"Yes."

"You know I wouldn't lie to you about anything, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then, let's put this conversation on hold. We've got other things to do today. How does some swimming sound?"

"Good." Tony responded, his voice a little lighter. He turned and put his arms around the taller body, careful to keep his wet hands from touching the clean, dry t-shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," Jethro whispered quickly. "Don't ever apologize for the way you feel. We've got plenty of time left during your visit to talk more about this. Okay?"

"Okay."

By one o'clock, Jethro had moved into the shade, under one of the colorful umbrellas provided by the apartment comlex's resident committee, and contented himself with watching Tony frolic in the water with several older teenagers who were also enjoying a break from school. Not much smaller than the others, Jethro realized Tony was actually slightly above the average in height for boys his age and the swimming he'd done in his grandfather's pool had begun to tone and shape his youthful body. He was built like a sleek otter and Jethro knew he was going to make a very attractive young man. And, judging by the way the three girls were teasing and fawning over him, the teenagers thought he was a very attractive adolescent. Jethro smiled behind his sunglasses. He could only guess at the kind of questions Tony would be asking later after spending the morning with several skimpily clad girls.

"Gunny!" Tony was shouting at him from the edge of the pool, arms holding him steady in the water as he looked toward the man.

Jethro waved from his position in the shade, knowing Tony couldn't tell if he was looking because of the dark glasses. He pushed to his feet and walked to the pool, squatting to bring himself closer to the boy.

"You ready for a break?" Jethro asked, taking in the pinkened cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Yeah, just about," the boy agreed. "Listen, instead of going to a movie later, do you think it would be okay if I hang out with Jessie and the gang? They're going to swim again this evening, when it's cooler, and have invited me to join them."

Jethro considered the proposal, trying to remember what he's heard, if anything, about the kids who lived in his complex. There'd been a rumor of some minor incident but he just hadn't really lived here long enough to get acquainted with all the specifics. Truthfully, he never liked living in the midst of others who actually thought they had a right to know everything about him. He like his privacy. Unfortunately, living as he was at the moment didn't give him very many options. He saw the boy's continued hopeful expression.

"You feel comfortable around them?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he was reward by a wide, bright smile. "Go tell them you'll see them later. I'm ready to wrap my mouth around a pizza with everything. How about you?"

"All right!" Tony exclaimed in joy but the man wasn't sure if it was because he'd gotten the response he'd wanted or if the prospect of food was that appealling. The youth pushed away from the edge and swam swiftly back to the small group waiting for him in the deep end of the pool, relaying the answer. He was back in no time, pulling his soaking body from the water, droplets streaming down his back and legs. Jethro threw him a large towel and picked up their other belongings, slipping his feet into sandals and waiting until Tony was ready. He saw the boy wave to the others one last time and then, together, they walked the short distance back to Jethro's apartment.

In no time, they'd readied themselves and were at Mario's, waiting expectantly for the large pizza they'd ordered, sitting companionably in the red vinyl booth and enjoying the hot garlic rolls the waitress had given them as she returned with their drinks. Jethro watched Tony consume another, hissing at the heat but unable to stop, and smiled at his appetite.

"You sure you don't want a salad, too?" He asked, sipping his ice tea and raising an eyebrow.

Tony looked up and shook his head, chewing happily on the bread. "No, thanks. The pizza will be enough. Gunny, these are so good."

"I noticed," he grinned at the youth, basking in the energy and vitality Tony was radiating, enjoying the peace of the moment.

"So," Tony licked his lips, leaving them shiny with garlic butter. "You're suppose to tell me about the clitoris."

Luckily, Jethro's drink was no where near his mouth. "Now?"

"Is it a bad time?" Tony frowned, looking around at the other booths and tables. The small resturaunt was full but the background music and chatter from the other patrons insured privacy.

"I guess not," Jethro sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"The response made Jethro sit forward. "Everything?"

"Yep."

"Okay," he ran a hand over his short hair, glancing briefly out the window, and thought about how to begin. "You know about the difference between male and female?"

Tony frowned and then immediately started laughing. "Gunny we learned about that stuff in elementary school. Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina. Boys produce sperm and girls produce eggs. The sperm fertilizes the egg and, bam!, you've got a baby in nine months. I got all that. What I want to know is where exactly is the clitoris and what do I do to get a girl to ...you know, to come?"

Jethro stilled. "You planning something?"

"Well, not immediately but someday, I hope. Come on, Gunny, help me out here. The only stuff I know is what I hear from the other guys at school."

"Tell me what you've heard and I'll tell you if it's right."

Tony sighed and sat back. "My friend who went to one of Brittany's parties said her mom let him touch her between the legs, made him rub a place with his fingers. He said she was wet down there and that she even had him put his fingers in her...you know...vagina."

The hackles were standing back up as straight as they'd ever been. Jethro gritted his teeth and took a sip of his cold drink.

"Go on."

Tony sat forward, elbows on the edge of the table. "He said she told him to pretend his fingers were his dick and to..."

"What?" Jethro asked when Tony stopped.

"His words, not mine, Gunny. Okay?"

"You can say anything to me and we'll discuss how appropriate the words are later. What did he say?"

"He said she told him to fuck her with his fingers."

There, it was said. Jethro eased his hands off the table and, out of view, clenched them tightly together into fists. He calmly continued to look at the youth and saw a nervous twitch appear at one corner of the young mouth. It was time to reassre again.

"It's okay, Tony," he said gently. "You're doing fine. Go on."

"He said she told him she had a 'magic button' and if he touched her just right, she'd come for him. Say, is the 'magic button' the same thing as the clitoris?"

"It may be what she calls it. Just like there's all these different names for the penis. Go on with your story."

"Well, Stevie said..." he looked up, realizing he'd put a name on the friend. "Ah, I guess I shouldn't have said that."

"Tony, I don't know who you hang with at school and will probably never meet this 'Stevie', so, what difference does it make?"

Tony nodded and then stopped as he spotted the waitress heading their way with a huge, bubbling pizza. He sat up straighter and watched as she placed it in the middle of the table, plopped extra napkins down, checked their drinks, and smiled brightly at them.

"It's really hot, guys, so be extra careful. Anything else you need?"

"Probably more to drink later," Jethro spoke and grinned politely, catching sight of her nametag. "Thanks, Penny, we'll let you know."

With the waitress gone, Jethro carefully levered a huge, hot slice off the tray and put it on Tony's plate, fighting the stringy cheese that continued to hang like strands to the rest of the pie. He did the same for himself and noticed Tony trying to cut a bite with the edge of his fork, blowing air in an attempt to get it cool enough to eat. It would be awhile before the slices would be at the right temperture to simply pick up, so, he too, opted for a fork. It was more work than he wanted at the moment but was the only way to get any of the delectable concoction into his mouth. The first bite was pure heaven. He glanced back to see Tony rolling his bite around in his mouth, eyes watering.

"Here," he pushed the boy's drink closer. "Take a quick sip. It should cool it down enough to where you can stand it. Did you burn your tongue?"

Tony shook his head and did as requested, swallowing before speaking. "No. The roof of my mouth."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," he agreed and sat back. "I think I'll wait a few minutes before I try again."

Jethro nodded. "Go on with your story."

"Okay," he sighed. "Um, Stevie said he started moving his fingers in and out and she started making all these weird noises..."

A priceless look appeared on Tony's face as he realized what he'd just said. Jethro smiled at the boy's look of astonishment.

"Tony, I'm sure your noises and her noises are totally different."

"You sure?"

"No, but go on."

"Well, that's really nice. Thanks," he faked a pout and Jethro was glad to see a little of the tension leave his shoulders. "Stevie said she got wetter and wetter down there and that he got a massive boner. He said he really wanted to do it with her but she pulled his fingers out and had him rub over her button again and again. He said," Tony swallowed and shifted in his seat, "he said she pulled him down so he was laying on her, that he thought he was going to get to fuck her, but she just kept his fingers moving on her. She put her hand on his dick and...and squeezed him real hard and he said he just shot in his pants, without being stroked or anything. He said he wanted to stop after he came but she kept telling him to rub and rub. He said...he said it took awhile but she did."

The boy looked down and bit his lip. He squirmed again and looked back at Jethro.

"I got a hard-on talking about it," he confessed quietly.

"It's okay," Jethro said again, wishing for some other term of assurance. "It's going to happen at the oddest times, Tony, so don't sweat it too much. Just hope you're in a situation like you are now, hidden under a table where no one can see it."

Tony smiled and then laughed, reaching to check the slice of pizza on his plate. It seemed cooler, so he carefully picked it up with cautous fingers and nibbled at the end.

"So," he said, green eyes settling on the man, "does that sound right? Does a woman get wet like that down there?"

"Yes, that's true. It makes for easier penetration. Helps cut down on some of the friction when the penis..."

"Penetration?" Tony imterrupted with a hiss, throwing Jethro an evil look. "I'm trying to lose a hard-on over here and you're talking about penetration? Give me a break, Gunny."

Jethro laughed and took a drink of his tea. "Sorry but you did ask for everything."

Tony grinned back and shifted again, one hand dropping down to do a little adjusting. His eyes darted swiftly around the immediate area to see if anyone was watching, only remembering about being discrete after the fact.

"Okay, what else?"

"Her 'magic button' was probably her clitoris and it's located at the entrance to the vagina, near the top. So, Stevie was either using his fingers at the wrong angle or she just needed more direct stimulation to orgasm. Some women need that and a good partner will make sure to find out before trying to penetrate. A man wants intercourse, wants to get his penis in the vagina, wants that feeling. A woman deserves to be treated with more comsideration. Although intercourse may feel very good to her, she may not be able to orgasm from just that alone. Paying extra care to the clitoris before or, even, after intercourse would insure she would find the experience more pleasurable. She may..."

"Okay, stop," Tony interrupted, his face strained and eyes pleading, both hands now in his lap. "I think I've just had about all the information I can handle right now. I need to... can we just...I don't know, talk about something else? Something gross, maybe? The grosser, the better. Please?"

Jethro smiled and ducked his head, knowing Tony was going to be practicing his 'discretion' in his room tonight for sure. "Of course. You know, when I was your age, I had a friend who's face actually looked just like this pizza and..."

"Eeewwwww, that's too gross even for me. How am I suppose to eat this now?"

"Oh, I think you'll manage somehow," Jethro laughed.

And, of course, he did. Filled to the brim with pizza, garlic rolls, and soda, Tony burped contentedly as they entered Jethro's apartment and plopped himself down on the comfortable, oversized couch, lanky body stretching out while keeping his feet on the floor.

"I'm tired," he confessed around a yawn.

"All that sun and food will do that to you," Jethro said as he moved around the kitchen, putting away the few groceries they'd picked up on the way home from the resturaunt. "Take a little snooze if you want. I'll wake you up when it's time to meet with your new friends. I've got some reading to do and, since we're not going to the movies tonight, I can catch up on some letters I need to write. You know, maybe I'll even make a few phone calls. Who knows, I may even find someone who..."

Jethro stopped talking and looked back toward the couch, seeing no movement from the boy. Quietly stepping closer, he looked down at the slumbering youth and smiled with affection. Tony was a good kid. How in God's name he'd managed to turn out this way was a true testament of the pure nature of his spirit. Jethro knelt beside the couch and gently touched the warm, sun-kissed cheek, delighting in the smooth skin. No pizza face here. He grinned as he thought of their conversation today and of the one in the park yesterday. So many questions. So young to have so many questions. He shook his head and rose, making his way to the work area he'd set up in one corner, determined to let the boy rest right up until the time he was suppose to meet Jessie and the gang for swimming. Oh, to be twelve again. Jethro chuckled quietly and sighed. No thank you.

The rest of the afternoon passed and Tony met the teenagers as planned, promising to be back no later than nine-thirty. They were just going to hang out by the pool, do a little swimming and talking, and Jethro could, at any time, stroll down to check on them if the urge arose. He resisted and busied himself with reading, not paying attention to the time. He trusted Tony to stick to his word and ignored that part of his brain that kept reminding him that he knew absolutely nothing of the other kids or their families. But this was about Tony and about Jethro's trust in him.

And, yet, something kept poking at his brain.

At a little after eight o'clock, the front door suddenly opened and Tony came in, moving quietly and keeping his head down. The set of the young shoulders immediately alerted Jethro. Something was wrong. Something had happened. As he shoved away from his desk and quickly approached the boy, he saw Tony raise his face, the stark misery etched on the young visage making the breath catch in his throat. What had happened?

"Gunny," Tony's voice broke, tears beginning to run down his cheeks and drip off the quivering chin, "I...I've done something really bad."


TBC