The following fictional story is being reposted by Mr Double.  If you are the author of this story and would like to receive proper recognition (an Author's Page at my website), contact me at mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.






WARNING:  The following purely fictional story contains graphic descriptions
of sexual
activities between an boy and a man.  Read no further if you are under the
age of 18,
against free speech, or not generally aroused by stories of this type.  If
you do read
this, consider it an exercise in releasing tension.  It is my deepest wish
that no child
ever be harmed.


An Old Lover, A New Lover

by 

Boisterous


     Chris appeared at my door without warning, stabbing a saber through the
emotional numbness I'd immersed myself in for nearly a decade.
     "Hi, Rick."
     I considered the beginning of three or four responses, but all remained
inchoate
as I stood helplessly before her.  I gazed toward the street and saw an old
Honda
Accord with the engine running.  Her breath, a silver cloud in the December air,
brought my gaze back to her.  She seemed ethereal.
     "Chris..or, Mary, I mean...."
     "Chris to you, Rick.  Aren't you going to ask me in?"
     "Sure."  I held the door wide so she could enter.  "But don't you want
to shut off
the engine?"
     "I don't know yet."
     I wondered what sign she would have in order to know.  Off balance again. 
She always did that to me. 
     "Sit down," I said too quickly.  "May I take your coat.  No, wait.
Your car is still
running, so I guess you'd want to keep it...."
     She slid out of her denim jacket and tossed it at me, smiling impishly
at me. 
The coat hit me full on the chest, but I managed to close my arms around it
before it
fell on the floor.  "I'm fucking freezing today. Been driving straight
through from New
Mexico. Can I have a cup of tea?"
     "Of course...but your car?"
     "It's got a full tank of gas."
     "But this isn't a great neighborhood.  Someone may decide to take it
for a spin."
     "Don't worry.  The doors are locked," she said, dismissing the topic.
"Do you
have an herbal lemon?  A spoon of honey would be nice."
     I knew better than to ask how she would get into her car.  Her keys
must be in
the ignition or it wouldn't be running.  Knowing Chris, she didn't have a
spare.  She
never had a spare anything.  I went to the kitchen and put some water on to
boil.
     She followed me.  "Do you have any vodka to put in it?"
     "Sure," I said with a smile.  I looked at her again.  The last time I
had seen her
she looked like an anorexic 25 year old.  She now looked like an anorexic 40
year old. 
Her hair, a frizzled brown bird's nest had not changed except for the
addition of
several strands of gray.
     Her mouth, drawn at a strange, exotic angle like Sigourney Weaver's, slowly
drew into a smile.  "You look great."
     "Thanks.  So do you." Then I began digging for the tea.  "I don't drink
much tea
these days."
     "Pity.  Done acid lately?"
     When we were lovers, we did acid every weekend. "Not since...our last
time." I
kept myself from remembering the painful memories of that last acid trip,
when my
terrible secret had erupted from me like lava.
     "God, what a trip that was."
     I put two mugs, a jar of honey and a half empty bottle of vodka on the
table. 
We both sat at the butcher block table and avoided looking at each other
while we
waited for the water to boil.
     "Fuck it," she muttered, hastily drawing the bottle to her lips.
Several large
bubbles rose to the top of the clear liquid. She smacked the bottle down on
the table,
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and asked,  "You live alone?"
     "Yes."  I went to my pantry and returned with a bottle of tequila.
Both spirits
had been in my pantry for a very long time.  Following her lead, I disdained
a glass
and raised the bottle of tequila to my lips.
     "How many women have you fucked since the last time we fucked?"
     "Jesus," I uttered.  For a moment, I felt trapped.  "One.  Just one.  Why?"
     "How many men?"
     "Christ, Chris.  What difference does it make?"
     "How many?"
     "I don't know.  Five or six."
     "Which?  Five or six?"
     I sighed.  "Two."
     She laughed and grabbed the bottle of tequila.  She lifted it to her
lips, then
paused just before drinking. "How many boys have you fucked?"
     "You haven't spoken a word to me in over 15 years and within three minutes,
you are asking me how many times I've molested children.  What do you think?"
     The bottle was still poised.  "None."
     "Right," I said forcefully.  "I told you I was attracted to boys, not
that I did
anything about it."
     She took another drink, again slamming the bottle onto the table.  "You
really
hate yourself, don't you?"
     Of course, my first impulse was to deny it.  Instead, I replied, "Maybe
I do."
     "You have more love inside you than any person I've ever met.  And you live
alone.  What a fucking waste."
     "Why are you here?" I asked.  My tea kettle whistled.
     "Because my last lover--a woman--beat the shit out of me one too many
times."
     "And you've got nowhere else to go?" I put my finger on the string to her
teabag and poured the steaming water into her cup, stopping an inch below
the rim. 
She filled the remaining space with vodka, foregoing the honey altogether.
     "I did come here to ask if you'd take me in for a while."
     "What if I had been married?"
     "I knew better."
     "Or had roommates."
     "You can't be miserable enough when others are around."
     "What if I say no?"
     "Then I'll keep driving."
     I poured myself a cup and put the kettle back on the stove. Instead of
reaching
for the steaming cup, I grabbed the tequila bottle.  Chris cradled her cup
in both hands
and looked at me without a trace of vulnerability.
     "I'm sure you will make me plenty miserable."
     She didn't smile at her victory. "So I'm in that easy?" 
     I shrugged.  "I've got an extra bedroom."
     "Did I mention that I'm a lesbian?"
     "Sort of.  Did I mention that I'm a pedophile?"
     "Just once."
     I grinned. "Twice as of now. Are you ready to shut your car off yet?"
     "There's one thing I still haven't told you...."
     "Why do I get the sense I don't want to hear this?"
     "It could make you very happy.  Or more miserable, I suppose."  She looked
out the window, nibbling neatly on a cuticle.
     "Well, out with it."
     "Would you shut off my car?  I have two suitcases in the back seat."
     "You've been here 10 minutes and already you are bossing me around."
     "Get used to it," she said with a wicked grin.
     "I don't suppose you'll be paying me rent."  I didn't care, but felt
too mean
spirited to let the thought pass unspoken.
     "How about $200 a month.  I might be able to pay more once I find a job."
     That stopped me in my tracks. "Sorry, Chris.  That was rotten of me.
You are
welcome to stay--rent free--for 2 or 3 months.  After you have a job and we
see how
things are going, you can choose whether to spend your rent dollars here or
on your
own place."
     "I hope I don't run out of gas," she prompted.
     "Fuck."  I grabbed my coat from the hall closet. "You said you had a
full tank."
     "I lied."
       "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I muttered as I stepped into the cold.  I
ran down
my icy sidewalk and stopped just before I got to the car, remembering that
she had
told me the doors were locked.  I almost went back to ask her for a key.  Then I
decided to check for myself.  I pulled on the door handle and found it was
indeed
locked.
     I turned to go back inside but caught some movement out of the corner of my
eye.  Bending down to peer inside, I saw a child reaching to unlock the
door. I opened
the door and peered inside to meet a timid pair of bright blue eyes.
     "Are you Rick?"
     "Yes," I said. This was clearly the other thing she had not mentioned.
"Are you
Chris's son?"
     "Yes."
     He appeared to be 9 or 10 and was wearing a worn jacket.  "Go inside.  I'll
bring the suitcases."
     "I want to help," he said.  He got out and grabbed the smaller of the two
suitcases.  Even so, he could hardly lift it.  To keep it off the ground, he
had to lean
heavily to one side.  I shut off the engine, pocketed the keys and grabbed
the other
suitcase.  I caught up with the struggling boy in only a couple of steps.
My first
impulse was to simply lift the suitcase from his hand.  Instead, I brought
my hand over
his on the handle and helped him lift it.
     He smiled appreciatively at me, and I felt the old familiar pain of
boy-love. What
could Chris be thinking of?  "What's your name?"
     "Austin. Didn't Chris tell you?"
     I looked at the boy.  Austin.  I remembered telling Chris that someday
I wanted
a son and that I wanted to name him Austin.  That had been before I had gone
into a
drug-induced frenzy and confessed my attraction to boys.  "You call her Chris?"
     "She hates being called mother."
     Chris met us at the door. "I see you two have met."
     I glared at her.  "Are you insane?"  Instantly I regretted the word
choice.  Her
mother had been in a mental institution the entire time we dated.
     She laughed easily.  "Very much so.  You used to find it intriguing."
     Austin and I dropped the bags in the middle of the living room.  I took
his jacket
and hung it in the closet next to mine. "Let me show you two to your room.
I'm sorry
that it only has one bed."
     "That's okay.  Austin can't stand to sleep alone.  He's a real snuggler."
     "Chris," he said.  If his cheeks hadn't already been red from the cold,
I'm sure
they would have turned red from embarrassment.  I made a pesto sauce for dinner
while they settled in to their room.  I heard water running in the tub.
     Chris came out to help me set the table.  "Remember the time I made
manicotti
for you?"
     "It wasn't the worst meal I ever tasted."
     "No," she said, grinning foolishly.  "That would have been the tuna
casserole
with spinach noodles and green olives."
     I laughed.  Now that was the worst meal I ever ate."
     "I haven't improved on my culinary skills on the past 15 years, Rick."
     "No problem.  Just stay the hell out of the kitchen." 
     My laugh was cut short by the sight of her son standing in the doorway.  He
was rubbing his hair with a towel and wore only a pair of white briefs.  I
saw his white
supple skin, glowing like the image of an angel, and it sent a shock of
longing and joy
and love through me like I had not experienced in years. I looked quickly
away, afraid
to drink too deeply of the intoxicating visage.
     "Sorry.  I didn't mean to swear in front of Austin."
     "Austin, did you hear him swear?" she asked sweetly.
     "Yes, Chris.  He said hell."
     "Is that the first time you've ever heard that word, Sweetie?"
     Austin stepped from the doorway and into the kitchen.  I busied myself
at the
sink, struggling with myself to keep from looking at his near-naked presence.
     Austin laughed, his voice high and pure. "First time today, I think.
Your favorite
word today has been fuck.  Hell is kind of lame compared to that, don't you
think?"
     "How the fuck would I know?"  She laughed.  I looked at Austin and saw him
grinning.
     When the boy saw me looking at him, he got a solemn expression on his
face. 
"Thank you for letting us stay here, Rick."
     "You're welcome."  Again, I looked away.  In a breathless voice I said,
"Get
dressed for dinner."
     The boy scampered away.
     "Isn't he adorable?" Chris asked.
     "This isn't going to work."  My emotions raged within me.  I shook with
the effort
of keeping it all together.
     Chris touched my forearm.  "Relax. Have a little respect for yourself,
for who
you are. You are not a monster.  You are a good man."  Then she rolled her
eyes and
in a voice heavy with sarcasm, said, "If there is such a thing."
     Austin eagerly took his first bite of his dinner.  I noticed it took
him a long time
to muster the courage for a second bite.  I doubted he had ever tasted pesto
before. 
There was a stricken look about him, but his shyness and good manners prohibited
him from saying how wretched he thought the food was.  Thinking quickly, I
grabbed a
four-pack of White Castle frozen hamburgers and tossed them in the
microwave.  I set
a bottle of ketchup on the table and exchanged his pasta plate with a plate of
steaming mini-hamburgers.
     Neither Chris nor Austin spoke of my actions, but as I listened to
Chris telling
me about the afternoon in an Indian smoke lodge that had nearly killed her,
I saw the
look of appreciation on the boy's face. While I listened to her, I also took
advantage of
the opportunity to study Austin more closely. He had white-blond hair cut in
bowl
fashion so that it hung evenly across his forehead just above the dark, narrow
eyebrows.  The curve of his brows provided a delicate accent to his long
lashes and
over-sized brilliantly blue eyes.  His nose and chin were rather narrow and
pointed,
but his lips were full and pale.  When Austin moved, his hair was so fine
and so soft
that it fluttered about him with fluid-like smoothness.  He was pale and
slender, giving
him the appearance of fine and delicate bone china.
     After dinner, which was served quite late, Chris sent Austin off to
prepare for
bed. As they settled into the softer chairs of the living room, Chris pulled
a joint from
her shirt pocket.  "Want to get high?"
     "I haven't done that for at least 10 years."
     "That doesn't answer my question."
     "You always were a bad influence on me."
     She took a gargantuan hit, then passed it to me.  I had just taken a
much more
modest hit when Austin danced into the room, again clad in nothing but his white
Hanes.
     "Yuckie! That stuff turns your brain to mush, Chris."
     "Just what the doctor ordered," came her glib reply.  I hastily
returned the joint
to her, embarrassed at being caught and reprimanded by a 10 year old.
     "Chris told me you wouldn't be a druggie."
     "Shut up,  Austin.  I just got him talked into trying pot again.  Give me a
goodnight kiss."
     Austin climbed next to her on the couch and gave her a huge and solemn
hug. 
He kissed her cheek and she kissed his.  As this occurred, I couldn't help
but notice
the surprising fullness of the boy's buttocks.  The rest of him seemed so
skinny. I also
noticed that the areolas of his nipples were unexpectedly large, nearly the
size of
quarters.  Austin's torso was dotted with dozens of small, brown birthmarks.
     "Goodnight, Rick."
     "Goodnight, Austin.  Feel free to make yourself at home.  Eat anything you
wish. Use anything you wish.  I want you to be happy here."
     "Thanks. Chris told me you were really neat.  She was right.  First
time for
everything."
     "Hey, you!" Chris called, tossing a couch pillow at him.  
     Austin darted from the room giggling.  A moment later he was back, wiggling
his ass at her.  "You missed me!"
     Before she could throw another pillow, he was gone.
     "Isn't he wonderful?"
     "Chris, you must know how I feel about him."
     "Seems every woman I've ever lived with has considered him a pain in
the ass. 
Or worse, one of the enemy, a male."
     "That's too bad."
     "He deserves to be around someone who appreciates him, respects him,
someone who wants him around.  Besides me, that is."
     "Chris, you know I would never have said you could stay if you had told me
about him."
     "That's why I didn't tell you."  She passed the joint back to me. "And
now that
you are hopelessly in love with him, you won't want us to leave."
     "I am hopelessly in love with him.  But I do want you to leave.  As
soon as you
can."
     "You tell him we can't stay here.  And tell him why."
     I took a hit, feeling my lungs heat up from the sweet smoke.
     "How can you stay here, knowing you can never leave him alone with me?"
     She laughed at me.  "Why should I be afraid to leave my son alone with
someone who loves him as much as you?"
     When I didn't respond, she held out her hand.  I passed the joint, now
a roach,
back to her.  My head spun from the pot.  Perhaps it also spun from the
chaos that
she had brought into my life. That night she told me of the past years of
her life.  A
decade ago she had come from a gay bar and walked hand-in-hand with a woman
she picked up.  Four college jocks had dragged them into an alley and raped
them.
Nine months later, Austin was born.  Her last lover, Angela, had beat her
nearly every
weekend for the two years they lived together.  Then she came home early one
night
and walked in to find her 10 year old son on her knees with his face in the
crotch of
his 16 year old babysitter.  Another 16 year old boy had been waiting for a
turn at
Austin. Austin had defended the older boy, saying he didn't mind the things
they did. 
When she tried to explain to Austin that the babysitter was just using him
for pleasure,
that he didn't even like Austin, he yelled at her in tearful rage.  He said
that the
babysitter was nicer to him than Angela was to Chris.  The next day, armed
with a
truth that was obvious to a 10 year old, she admitted it to herself.  They
packed two
suitcases and drove out of town.

     Later, when I lay in bed, I couldn't sleep.  Disjointed thoughts and
brightly
colored patterns flooded my stoned brain. I found myself with penis in hand,
slowly
masturbating.  I did it for comfort, but as my juices rose, the visage of
Austin's sweet
nearly-naked body came unbidden. Then I thought about his babysitter,
imagining the
boy's beautiful face contorted as he struggled to accommodate a huge cock in his
mouth.  A surge of lust sent me over the edge to orgasm.  As my semen seeped
through stomach hairs to settle against my skin with a cool sensation, I
felt the sting of
guilt and weakness.  Having the delicate beautiful boy under my roof was too
great a
risk.  Yet I knew I could never force them to leave. 
     Agony, no matter how tinged by excitement and love, is still agony.
     Fortunately the week ahead of me was filled with extra duties. I would
be home
in time to fix dinner, but afterwards, I retired to my room to do sales
reports. I made
sure they felt at home but didn't interact much.
     That Friday at the dinner table, Chris asked, "Any bars for dikes in
this town?"
     "Yeah, I think so. The Swan, for one."
     "Would you mind if I went out searching for love?  I'm so horny I could
die."
     Not much Chris could say would shock me.  I looked at Austin to gauge his
reaction.  He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.  "She gets that way a
lot. If
we don't let her go, she'll get crabby."
     "Hey!  I'm sitting right here you know."  
     I squirmed in my seat and concentrated on spearing a stem of broccoli.
Despite
my trepidation, I felt a thrill at the prospect of spending some one-on-one
time with
Austin. "You've only been here one week.  Austin probably doesn't want to be
left
alone with me."
     "I don't mind," the boy said quickly. After a moment of silence, he
hung his
head and added, "If you don't want me around, I can hang out in my room."
     I looked at Chris.  She stuck her tongue out in pantomime of sadness.
     "I was thinking we could go to Blockbuster and rent a Nintendo or a Sega."
     "Wow! You mean it?" 
     Chris laughed.  "Austin, sit back down and finish your dinner."
     Austin forced himself to take a bite.  "Rick, do you think we could get
Sonic the
Hedgehog?"
     Later, as she went out the door, Chris stood in front of the television.
     "Move, Chris!" Austin called, straining to see the screen.
     "You listen to Rick and do what he tells you. Rick, you make sure he
takes a
bath tonight.  And if you don't mind, please wash his hair.  He does a
miserable job of
it."
     She put her coat on.  "Oh, and don't forget, Austin--clean underwear.
And in
bed by midnight."
     "Jeez," the boy whined, "Just go already, would you?"
     The night flew past.  I'm no good at video games, and I don't even like
them
very much.  But watching a thoroughly engrossed Austin made the evening magical.
Too soon, I had to say, "Austin, it's after 11:00.  Time for your bath."
     The boy bounded to his feet.  "Okay. Will you help me fill the tub?"
     My small bathroom seemed close as I knelt to adjust the temperature.
Austin
stood just behind me and I could hear him pull his shirt off.  I knew I had
to make a
quick exit to preserve my sanity. Already I could feel pressure building in
my briefs.
Finally I had the temperature right, so I set the plug.  As I stood I
noticed he was
slipping his denim jeans off.
     "I'll give you a little privacy," I said, trying to keep my self from
looking at him as
I eased past.
     "Oh, keep me company.  Please?" I stopped short as his hand timidly grasped
at my wrist.  He still wore his white briefs. 
     "I don't think I should...."
     "Please?" He didn't let go of my wrist and I didn't pull away.
"Besides, you
have to wash my hair."
     I looked down into his radiant face, which was eager and fearless.
"Well, this
isn't exactly a great place to hang out.  Not much furniture."
     "Jake always used to sit on the stool."
     "Jake?"
     "My last babysitter.  He was really cool."
     I sat carefully on the toilet, remembering what Chris had told me about
this
babysitter.  Then I asked, "What did you like about him?"
     "Well, he was older and he knew a lot of stuff.  And he would talk to
me, you
know? Most of my other babysitters would ignore me and talk on the phone or read
magazines."
     My small bathroom is arranged so the stool faces toward the tub. He
stood less
than two feet from me, and my eyes were full of his supple skin and the
graceful lines
of his slender body. I couldn't keep myself from looking at the enticing
shape of his
genitals beneath his briefs. Birthmarks abounded, chocolate brown against
the stark
whiteness of his skin.
     I gazed at his crotch. Facing fully toward me, Austin hooked his thumbs
under
the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down.
     When he straightened, standing stark naked with his hands limply at his
sides,
he asked, "How come you don't have a girlfriend, Rick?"
     Discomfort overwhelmed me.  The question was a difficult one, and the boy's
naked beauty posed a huge distraction.  Without any shred of self-control, I
stared. 
Though I had never seen a naked 10 year old before, I knew Austin's genitals
were
small.  His testes, pulled into a tight little knot of flesh, pushed his
circumcised penis
outward.  It was an inch in length but was so thin that it didn't appear
stubby.  No
work of art could ever capture the exquisite perfection of the glans.
     I guess Austin gave up on me because he tried to answer his own question. 
"Chris says you don't like girls.  But you don't have a boyfriend either, do
you?"
     "Um...no."
     Austin turned his back on me, bending over to turn off the faucet.  While
appreciating the beauty of his surprisingly fleshy buttocks, I snaked a hand
down my
jeans to make my erection more comfortable. The dark crease between his cheeks
ended in the shadowy bump of his scrotum.
     He turned back to me and stood with his hands on his hips.  "Chris gets
crabby
if she has to go three days without sex.  Don't you get horny?"
     Of course, I had never been more horny than at that moment.  "Sure.  Do
you?" As soon as I said it, I regretted it.
     "Uh-huh," he said.  He settled himself into the bathtub.  "Do you ever
play with
your thingy?"
     "Yes, but let's talk about something else."
     "Oh."  He nervously splashed water on his chest.  "Sorry."  For a moment I
thought he would cry.
     "It's okay, Austin.  Hey, tell me about the friends you had in New Mexico."
     "Well, I already told you about Jake...."
     "What about kids your own age?"
     His sadness continued.  "No. I have a hard time making friends.  I
mean, Jake
wasn't really my friend. He was getting paid to watch me. We move a lot,
too, so I sort
of keep to myself at school."
     "Speaking of that, we've got to get you registered on Monday."
     "I know."
     "Don't you like school, Austin?"
     "It's okay.  But as soon as I get used to a place, we move again."
     "How are your grades?"
     "What do you mean?"
     "Well, most kids who move a lot end up failing a lot of classes."
     "It's pretty hard to flunk fourth grade."
     "Do you read okay?"
     "I love to read."
     "Great.  Tomorrow we'll go to a bookstore and buy you some new books."
     "Wow.  Really?" His face brightened.  Suddenly he stood and began
vigorously
rubbing the soap between his hands to build a rich lather.  He started
rubbing suds all
over his body. "I like the way the soap feels, all slippery."  As he said
it, both hands
descended upon his genitals.  As I watched his every move, a dull ache
developed in
my groin from over-arousal.
     He sat to rinse the soap from his body, then turned to me and said,
"Ready to
wash my hair?"
     I stood awkwardly because of the pressure in my crotch.  As I leaned across
the tub to grab the Pert shampoo, he looked directly at the tubular bulge in
my jeans
and said, "Wow."
     I chose to ignore the comment and quickly knelt next to the tub. My cheeks
burned from embarrassment as I grabbed the toothbrush cup and scooped water onto
his hair. I shivered from passion as I brought my hands to his silken hair.
     "That feels nice," he cooed.
     He sat straight as I worked the shampoo into his scalp with my fingertips. 
Looking down, I saw his penis bobbing in the soapy water. It was almost more
than I
could bear.  I turned on the faucet to get clean water for rinsing.
     When I had finished, I handed him a towel and started to leave.  "Will
you dry
my hair?"
     "Okay."  
     I took the towel in both hands and rubbed his hair vigorously. To
maintain his
balance, he grabbed my hips.  When I finished I handed him the towel.  As I
slipped
out of the bathroom, I caught one glimpse of his perfect 2-1/4 inch erection.
     I played Sega until he emerged from the bathroom.  "Can I play, too?" he
asked, standing tall in front of me in his Hanes with the obvious bulge of
his erection
inches from my face.
     "You need to go to bed. It's late, and your mom said you'd turn into a
pumpkin
if I let you stay up till midnight."
     "Aw, Rick.  She won't be home till after 2:00.  Maybe not at all.  Just
let me
play one more game."
     "No way.  Get going."
     "Will you tuck me in?"
     "You get settled and I'll stop to say goodnight."
     I waited five minutes. He had the covers pulled to his chin.  I turned
the light off
and said, "Sleep tight, Austin."
     "Rick, would you sit with me for a minute?"
     I sat on the edge of the bed. He brought a hand out from under the
covers and
grasped mine.  We sat in silence and held hands for several minutes. In a sleepy
voice, he said, "I had a great night.  Thanks, Rick."
     "I had fun, too.  Good night." I lightly touched his cheek, then
slipped out of the
room.  I had a hard time falling asleep and eventually gave in to masturbation. 
     I awoke with a start.  Austin had crawled into my bed and was nuzzling
his face
onto my hairy chest.  "What are you doing here?"
     He froze.
     "You need to go back to your own bed."  I guess I was sort of freaked
out. I did
not want to become a child molester.
     He slid off the bed and without speaking left my bedroom. I felt awful for
sending him away, knowing I had hurt his feelings. It was 2:30.  I lay
staring at the
ceiling for a long time. It was about 3:30 when there was a gentle rap on my
door.
     Chris poked her head inside and asked, "Did Austin try to come in here
tonight?"
     I sat up.  "Yes."
     "And you sent him away."
     "Well, yes."
     "Come here."
     I grabbed my robe and followed her to the living room. Chris was stark
naked. 
Huddled in a corner of the couch with no blanket, Austin shivered visibly.
His briefs
seemed to glow in the dim light.
     "Why is he out here?" I asked.
     "When I sent him to your room, I never considered you would kick him out."
     "You sent him?  Why?"
     Austin sat up and sniffled.  I could tell he was crying.
     "I have company in my bed."
     "Oh," I said softly.  
     "You can be such a jerk."
     "Me?  What about you?"
     "Don't fight," Austin pleaded in a trembling voice.
     Chris said, "We're done fighting, honey.  I'm drunk and I'm going back
to bed."
     I sighed.  "Austin, I'm sorry.  I thought you could just go back to
your bed. 
Come on."
     "Can I just have a blanket, please?"
     "Come on.  My big warm bed is waiting."
     "You don't want me there."
     "Is that what you think?  I want you there.  Believe me.  I want you
there."
     I stepped close to him and held out my hand.  He took it and I led him
to my
room.  Under the covers, I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around his
skinny
shoulders.  His crying slowly increased until he sobbed loudly.  I rubbed
his back and
talked soothingly to him until he got control of himself.
     When he was calm enough to answer, I asked, "What's the matter, Austin."
     But I had waited too long--he was asleep.
     I felt the heat of his body as I cradled it with one arm.  I loved him
so much that
the intensity of my feelings went beyond any previous experience. I tried to
imagine
how he was feeling.  He'd just been uprooted and moved half-way across the
country.
He stayed in a stranger's house on a day to day basis. Plus, he had no
friends.  I
knew he dreaded starting at yet another school, especially in the middle of
a school
year.  If I had been in his situation, I'm sure I would have crumbled under the
pressure.  Yet he danced around the house, making clever jokes, and giving
me the
best week of my entire life. What a resilient kid!
     I pulled his hot body tighter against mine, wishing I could just draw
him right
inside me.  I wanted to take away his pain, his fears.  I wished that I
could make him
feel safe and loved.  What he needed, I knew, was a father.  But I knew I
could never
be the father he needed. Even if he was open to it, I'm not the father type.
As if I
didn't need any reminding, Austin shifted in his sleep and brought his bent
knee to
rest right on my crotch.  I felt my penis begin to twitch and bulge against
my cotton
briefs.
     I fell asleep more than an hour later.
     It was after 9:00 when I awoke.  I was alone in bed and I could hear
voices in
the next room.  Chris and Austin spoke softly as they ate breakfast.  I sat up,
preparing to go to the bathroom when I heard Austin's clear voice say, "I
like Rick a
lot, Chris."
     "I do, too, honey."
     I felt guilty for being so sneaky, but I slid over to press my ear
against the wall.
     "You don't understand.  I really like him."
     "I'm glad you like him, Austin."
     There was a long pause.  "I'm afraid you're going to make us move again."
     "No, Austin.  We came here for you."
     "What do you mean?"
     "Never mind.  We'll be here for a while.  When we do leave here, we won't
move very far away."
     I knew it was wrong to listen.  My conscience got the best of me.  I
grabbed my
robe and headed for the bathroom.  Austin heard my door open and stopped me in
the hallway. "Good morning," I said cheerfully.
     He wore sweatpants with no shirt and was barefoot. "Good morning."  He
blocked my path.  "Um, Chris's friend is in the bathroom right now.  
     I paused for a moment and could hear the water running.  "Oh."
     He grabbed my hand.  "Come on.  I'll scramble some eggs for you."
     I hate breakfast and rarely eat it. Of course, if Austin wanted to make me
breakfast, I would eat breakfast.  "Great."
     While I was eating slightly runny scrambled eggs and toast, Chris's
friend came
into the kitchen. Chris introduced her and within five minutes, they had
returned to the
bedroom.  Austin and I sat in silence for a moment.  When the sound of
passionate
moaning reached us a moment later, I said, "Oh, Jesus."
     Austin laughed, his cheeks flushed.  "Did you like having sex with my mom?"
     I cleared my throat.  He looked at me as though he expected me to answer. 
"Well, Austin, she was my first lover."
     "Did you like doing it with her?"
     "I'm not comfortable talking about it, kiddo."
     "She told me all about it."
     "What did she say," I asked, not sure if I wanted to know.
     "She said you got drunk and barfed earlier in the night, but that when
the time
came you rose to the occasion."
     I wondered if he got the joke about rising to the occasion.  When I
didn't say
anything, Austin added, "She said that you always made her feel special."
     "It's nice of her to say so." I needed to change the subject.  "I've
got an idea. 
Why don't we play a few games of Sonic?"

     Chris's friend left mid-afternoon.  We went to Pizza Hut for dinner and
went
bowling after that.  Austin scored a 70 and was proud of it.  He looked so
sweet as he
threw the ball, struggling with its weight.  As he waited to see how many
pins he
would knock over, he stood with crossed legs and his tongue at the corner of his
mouth.  For some reason, I fixated on that tongue as the most beautiful
thing I had
ever seen.  I longed to kiss him.
     We watched a video.  At his bedtime, Austin turned to Chris and asked,
"Can I
sleep in Rick's room again tonight?"
     I straightened in my chair. "Don't you think you should stay with your
mother?"
     "She snores too loud."
     She replied in a rather nasty voice, "Don't forget, Austin, that he
kicked you out
last night."
     "But he let me in later."
     "Chris, when I sent him away, I thought he was going back to your room.
I had
no idea your bed was...full."
     She laughed.  "Well, if he got used to sleeping with you, then I
wouldn't have to
kick him out of bed when I bring a friend home."
     "Can I, Rick?"
     "I guess it's okay with me if it is okay with Chris." My heart pounded.
I hoped
they couldn't tell how excited I was by the prospect of sharing my bed with
the boy of
my dreams.
     Austin went off to brush his teeth, and Chris pulled out the ziploc bag
where
she kept her pot.  "Get high with me?"
     "Chris, I don't know.  I gave that shit up a long time ago."
     "Until I came to visit, anyway.  Come on.  It's the weekend."
     "Don't you feel bad about letting Austin see you getting stoned?"
     "No.  Why should I lie to him about it?  That would be a stupid as
trying to keep
him from finding out I'm a lesbian.  He's a sensitive but tough kid, Rick.
He can deal
with it."
     "What can I deal with?" Austin asked, walking into the room dressed
only in a
tee shirt and underwear.
     "Seeing me smoke pot."
     He came over and sat on the arm of my recliner, leaning back so his
shoulder
blade rested against my shoulder.  When Chris extended her arm to pass me
the joint,
he deftly took it from her and passed it to me.  "I've had a lot of chances
to practice
dealing with it.  She's always getting high."
     Chris laughed, then reached over and grabbed hold of the waistband on his
Hanes.  She snapped it.
     "Ow!" Austin protested.  When she reached for his waistband a second
time, he
slid off the arm of the chair and onto my lap, his butt coming directly upon
the erection
that was straining against the confines of my jeans. "Rick will protect me
from you."
     "But I won't protect you from Rick."
     I took a hit to keep from getting freaked out.  He took the joint from
me and
handed it to Chris.  He squirmed his butt around to get more comfortable.
This, of
course, made me significantly less comfortable.
     "I think you should get going to bed," I said in a strained voice.
     "No way," Austin said defiantly.
     Chris changed the subject, and we sat there sharing the joint while Austin
snuggled into my lap.  Eventually he turned so his cheek rested against my
chest.  I
could smell the sweet smoke of the pot and the flowery scent of his hair.
     Chris and I got into a huge and absurd discussion that compared the
works of
Ernest Hemingway with Flannery O'Connor.  You have to be stoned to even see a
connection between the two writers. But Chris and I could do things like
that.  We
connected as undergraduate students at a small Catholic college, and we clicked
nearly 20 years later as socially isolated 40 year olds. While we
alternately agreed
and quibbled and smoked three joints, Austin settled himself into my arms
and fell
sound asleep.
     "Isn't he beautiful?" Chris asked, gazing affectionately at her
sleeping son.
     "Too beautiful to be a mere mortal."
     "Oh, he's mortal.  Haven't you noticed that he farts and burps?"
     I smiled.  His head lay against my chest just below the collar bone.  I
admired
the graceful lines of his slender thighs.  His bare feet pointed toward
Chris. "Why did
you name him Austin?"
     "Your favorite name."
     "Yeah."
     "Rick, I would never have left you if you hadn't told me you liked
boys.  You're
the only person in my entire life that loved me."
     I looked away.  "But you were right to leave.  I can't really love any
woman--not
in the sense of husband and wife, anyway."
     "You were really good for me, Rick.  I never told you that.  I think
you saved my
life.  You gave me an understanding that love wasn't just some Catholic
bullshit idea. 
I want you to give that to my son."
     "You've already given it to him."
     "Well, maybe I want to give some of it back to you, as well.  Tell me
honestly,
could anything make you happier than having Austin sleeping in your arms?"
     "No."
     "Him either."  She lit a Panatella cigar.
     "Those things stink."
     "I know."  She grinned and blew a cloud of smoke my way.  "Why don't
you two
go to bed?"
     I got my arm behind his knees and easily stood.  I was amazed at how
light he
was.  He opened his eyes, met mine, then closed them again.  He pressed his
cheek
against my chest and the slightest smile passed across his face.
     When I woke up, daylight streamed through the mini-blinds. The covers were
pooled around my knees.  I was on my back and Austin had his head on my stomach.
His hand was inside my briefs, tightly grasping my aching erection.  An
exquisite wave
of pleasure passed through me, and I gasped.
     I could tell that the elastic of my briefs had been pushed back and my cock
stood exposed to the air.  My glans felt cool and it tingled.  I realized
that while I was
asleep, Austin had been sucking my cock.  
     He froze when he heard me gasp. It seemed like an impasse, neither of us
moving for a long time.  I flexed the muscle to make my cock twitch.  Still
nothing.  It
felt strange to go from being asleep to being wide awake and very sexually
aroused.
My judgment must have been impaired because I put my hand on the soft hair
at the
back of Austin's head and nudged him toward my cock.
     My hips lifted toward his face.  I felt the pressure of his lips and
the tickling of
his tongue as it danced around my glans.  I rubbed my hand down his back, moving
past the elastic of his briefs.  As he engulfed the glans into his mouth, I
cupped one
fleshy cheek of his butt into my palm.  He began bobbing his head.  When I
reached
between his legs to tease his balls, he began to tremble.
     We both froze when there was a solid knocking on the bedroom door.  "Come
on, guys.  Get your lazy asses out of bed!" Chris yelled.
     Austin quickly returned his head to the pillow while I pulled the
covers up. 
"We'll be out in a minute," I called, hoping to keep her from opening the door.
     Austin looked stricken.  "Oh, God.  What did I do?  Jesus, please don't
tell
Chris.  Promise you won't say anything."
     I put my arm on his shoulder and pulled him back against me.  "Just relax,
buddy.  I won't tell."
     "It won't matter," he moaned.  A few large tears spilled from his
beautiful blue
eyes.  "She'll know.  She always knows everything."
     "It'll be okay, Austin.  We don't ever have to do this again."
     "I don't want to move, Rick.  Please."
     I sat us both up and hugged him tight. I rocked him and used my most
soothing
voice.  Eventually he stopped crying.  Chris rapped on the door again.
     "Come on, guys.  One of you has to cook breakfast for me."
     We both got dressed quickly and went to the kitchen.  Chris looked at
her son
and immediately asked, "Why have you been crying?"
     Austin hung his head and didn't answer.
     "Rick, why has he been crying?"
     He looked at me with intense desperation and said, "Don't tell her!" A
moment
later he bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door.
     Chris looked calmly at me.  "What did you do to him?"
     "I'm not sure."  I ran my fingers through my hair.  "But maybe he
should sleep
with you from now on." I felt confused and shaken.
     I scrambled some eggs and got the griddle hot for pancakes.  Chris sat
silently
at the table. A few minutes later Austin came back into the kitchen and sat
across
from his mother.
     "Don't make us move, please. I won't do it again.  I promise, Chris.
Please," he
pleaded.
     "Slow down, kiddo.  What did you do?"
     "It wasn't like with Jake. Rick didn't make me do it.  I just couldn't
help it.  Don't
make us move again.
     "Oh, I get it."  She looked at me, then at Austin.  I felt about two
inches tall. 
Chris's temper could strike awe into the heart of the bravest person, and I
couldn't tell
if she was about to lose her temper. "First off, we did not move to get you
away from
Jake. We moved to get me away from Angela. Understand?"
     "Yes."  Though still upset, he seemed subdued.
     "Second, I want you to tell me anytime someone tries to hurt you or
force you
to do something you don't want to do.  I know Rick would never hurt you or force
himself on you. But if that happens, tell me immediately.  Otherwise, spare
me the
details, okay?"
     "Oh. So you don't mind if I...if we..."
     She seemed ready to get angry. "If you what?"
     Austin figured her out quickly, before I did.  "Nothing, Chris.
Nothing at all."
     "Now, are you guys willing to go cross country skiing with me or do you
have to
go back to bed for awhile?"
     "Chris!" Austin complained.  I'm sure my cheeks turned as red as his.
Chris
smiled triumphantly.
     Instead of renting skis for Chris and Austin, I took them to a sporting
goods
store and bought them skis and boots. We had a great day and finished it by
eating
dinner at Red Lobster.  To anyone around us, I'm sure we looked like a wholesome
family. In fact, for a while, I felt like part of a wholesome family--just
one that had
unique sleeping arrangements.
     As we milled around getting ready for bed, I said, "Chris, you've got
to get him
registered for school tomorrow.  He'll get too far behind."
     "Yeah, I know."
     "I don't want to go to school," Austin said, coming to stand between
us.  He
held a foamy toothbrush in his hand and bluish foam dribbled down to his chin.
     "Go spit that out," Chris scolded.  After Austin plodded off to the
bathroom,
Chris said, "He's barely civilized.  That's the difference between sons and
daughters."
     "Oh, I see.  So you were a civilized child?  I find that hard to believe."
     "Bastard."
     When I went to brush my teeth, Austin was hugging Chris and saying
goodnight.  I realized that for the first night since they had come to live
with me,
Austin's bedtime ritual did not include prancing around in his underwear.
He wore
jeans and a tee shirt. As I turned to leave the bathroom, Austin appeared in
front of
me.
     "Are you coming to bed?" he asked, his voice as sweet as a choir boy's.
     "Yes."
     When I got to the bedroom, he had the covers pulled to his chin.  I was
disappointed and concerned.  I had hoped to view the beauty of his nearly naked
body. Bedtime displays of his charms had become the most anticipated and
vital part
of my day.  I was concerned because it seemed that earlier in the day the
three of us
had negotiated a sort of agreement about the privacy of our bedroom. But his
behavior seemed totally devoid of flirtation.  
     "Austin, are you okay?"
     "Sure.  Why do you ask?"  
     I started to undress, and was pleased that he studied me intensely.
     "I don't know...you wore your jeans when you brushed your teeth.
You've never
done that before."
     "Well, I was embarrassed."
     "Why? I mean why now? I've seen you in your underwear every day for the
past nine days."
     I stood at the side of the bed, naked except for my white briefs.
Because he
stared, I paused, letting him see what he wanted to see. My flaccid penis
twitched.
     "I didn't want Chris to see. . . ."
     "She's seen you before."
     His nervous, shy expression melted my heart. "Not like this," he mumbled.
     Then I figured out why he had kept his jeans on. Unable to resist the
impulse, I
pulled back the covers to look at his awe-inspiring body. He allowed me to
do this, but
he didn't have the courage to look at me.  His small erection made an
unmistakable
bulge in the front of his briefs. "Austin, your beauty defies comparison."
     "What?" he asked, wrinkling his brow.
     I turned the light off. "Never mind."
     "Rick?"
     I paused on my way under the covers. "Yeah?" 
     "Never mind."
     We were both very nervous. I settled onto my pillow and neither of us
spoke or
moved for several minutes.
     "Are you sleepy?" he asked in a small voice.
     "No."
     "Me neither."
     I can't explain why I why I was frozen into inactivity.  I know I was very
nervous.  I knew I was getting ready to break a vow I'd made to myself over
a decade
ago.  I was going to have sex with a boy. I had wrestled with it all day,
knowing that
my lust would overcome my conscience eventually.  Now I lay in the dark
staring at
the ceiling, not touching Austin at all.
     I had just decided that I should start out by hugging him as I had done
in the
last two nights when we slept together, when Austin asked, "Remember what I was
doing this morning?"
     "Wow, do I remember."
     "Well, can I do that to you again?"
     While struggling with my conscience, this beautiful child worked up enough
courage to make the first move.  But then, he had made the first move in the
morning
while I was still sleeping.  My cock ached from over-arousal, and it would
have been
very easy to say yes.  But that would not have been love.
     "Austin, I want to make love to you." I raised on one elbow and brought my
face to hover over his.  He didn't move at all. He flinched or quivered when
I touched
his shoulder.
     In a very high-pitched, squeaky voice that trembled, he asked, "You want to
stick it in my ass?"
     I brought my hand to his cheek.  "What I mean is that I want to hug and
caress
you and kiss you."
     "Oh."
     I brought my lips to his forehead with a feather-light kiss. He tilted
his head
back, and I raised up enough to view the parted lips he offered to me.  As I
kissed his
lips, gently at first, my hand roamed down the bumpy contour of his ribs.
Breath
exploded through his nose as he moved his lips in an attempt at kissing me
back. Still
kissing, I worked my hand across his heaving stomach.  When I wormed my
fingertips
under the waistband of his shorts, he moaned into my mouth.  When I brushed
across
the silky tip of his circumcised cock, he broke the kiss and panted for
breath.  His
knees raised and his hand tugged at my wrist.
     "What did you do to me?" he whispered urgently.
     "I just touched you.  Did you orgasm?"
     "I don't know...I guess so."
     "Haven't you had an orgasm before?" I pulled my hand from his briefs.
     "No.  It was kind of scary."
     "Next time, just let yourself go. Orgasms are great. I promise you'll
like it."
     "Is that like what happens when the sperm comes out?"
     "Yes."
     "But Jake said I was too young to do that."
     Instead of being pissed off at some 16 year old I would never meet, I
leaned
down and kissed his nose.  "You're too young to make a baby, but not too
young to
enjoy sex." 
     He raised up to meet my lips, and as we kissed I again explored his
chest with
my fingertips.  When I brushed his nipple, he made a noise like a kitten.
Of course, I
returned to pay more attention to the solid nub of flesh.  The way he moved
around on
the mattress, I knew his arousal returned.  I moved to caress his neck with
my lips. 
The graceful curves and soft skin beneath his ear, sent my blood thrumming
through
my ears.  I could feel a vague sense of wetness at the place where my glans
pressed
urgently against my underwear. After such an extended period of arousal, I
imagined
about a gallon of pre-cum must have seeped from my cock.
     He tentatively brought his hand to my hip.  I swiveled my hips to bring
my cock
right to his fingertips. When he rubbed across the damp, slick cotton of my
briefs, I
moaned into his open mouth.
     He broke off our kiss.  "Did you shoot your sperm?"
     "No.  The wet stuff is called pre-cum, and it seeps out when I'm really
excited."
I grabbed his briefs.  When he lifted his hips, I pulled them off. His hand
instantly
returned to my cock.
     "Yours too?" he asked hopefully.
     I stood to remove them.  When I climbed back under the covers, I moved my
body over his and rubbed my hairy torso over his skinny, hairless one. Our
mouths
locked in another kiss.  I could feel the small nugget of his cock rubbing
against my
stomach.  My cock slid across his soft thigh, leaving a wet trail where it
touched.
     I knew I couldn't wait much longer for an orgasm. I rolled onto my side and
grabbed his slender hips, pulling his butt against my pelvis.  I rubbed my
cock into the
soft fleshy buttocks for a moment, then raised his leg so my cock could go
between
his legs.
     After releasing his leg so my cock was trapped between his thighs, I
reached
around to explore his loose scrotum.  By bending at the waist, I could bring
my lips to
his neck.  I whispered, "I love you, Austin."
     My thumb and forefinger seized his erection.  There was little room on
the shaft
for a second finger, so I used the extra fingers to jostle his balls.  They
immediately
began to crawl closer to his groin. To my delight, the boy brought a hand
between his
legs to grasp at the part of my cock that protruded through his pressed thighs.
     "That feels good," I whispered.
     He kept his hand in place on my foreskin as I began thrusting. I wasn't
sure
how long it would take Austin to reach orgasm, so I worked slowly on his
short cock. I
wished that he had a foreskin like me so I didn't have to worry about
chafing him.  His
hand circled around and around my slick glans, bringing me closer to a
climax. The
slickness of my cock inspired me to gather my saliva on my hand and smear it
around
his cock.  When I rubbed my slippery fingers across his glans, Austin firmly
grabbed
my cock and held on.  His body bucked a few times, and I knew he was in the
midst
of his second orgasm.
     I thrust, feeling my pubic hair smashed against his supple butt, and
suddenly
my world exploded.  I bit into his neck and held on for dear life as my cock
erupted. 
Five, six, seven times. 
     After a minute or two of recovery, I let go of his softening cock and
used my
hand to turn his head toward me.  I kissed him gently. Half of the bed was
drenched
with my semen, but we snuggled close and were both able to stay dry and
comfortable.
     The alarm went off at 6:00.  I had to disentangle myself from Austin
before I
could reach over to silence it. He didn't even stir. I got out of bed and
staggered to the
shower.  Chris waited in the hall for me to emerge so she could shower.  I
went back
to my room and turned on the light.  Still Austin did not stir. I sat on the
edge of the
bed and studied his face, made even more innocent by slumber.  His dark
eyelashes
curled enticingly.  His slender, straight nose and dark, thin eyebrows gave
him an
almost feminine look.  But he was not feminine--he was 100% boy, and I could not
have liked the way he looked more than I did right then.
     
     When I trudged in the door at 6:30 that night, I already fantasized
about going
to bed.  Nothing had gone right all day long.  Chris met me at the door.
"He's in
his...your room crying.  He won't talk to me, but his first day of school
must have been
pretty bad."
     "How about you?  Have a good day?"  I was determined to be cheerful.  All I
wanted was to crawl in bed--alone--and go to sleep.
     "I applied to four jobs.  One of them would even be worth taking.  If they
offered it, of course."
     "Great," I said with false enthusiasm.  "What do you want for dinner?"
     "I'm making spaghetti."
     "Uh-oh."
     "I'm using that store-bought Prego stuff you had in the pantry."
     "Should I try to talk to him?"
     "Well, maybe you should just leave him in there to cry for a couple more
hours."  She didn't even grace me with a smile.
     I knocked on my bedroom door.  No answer.  I opened it a crack and peered
inside.  "Austin?"
     "Hi, Rick," he said in a small, shaky voice.  
     "Can I come in?"
     "It's your room." Austin spoke without rancor, but still it made me
sad.  He didn't
have a room.  Or even any toys.  I remembered all the toys I had at age 10.  I
probably had 300 dollars worth of G.I. Joes when I was his age.
     I edged into the room.  "I've been thinking maybe we could turn my den
into a
bedroom for you.  You know, so you could have a room of your own."
     He looked up from his pillow.  "Really?"
     "We can go shopping for a bed tomorrow night."
     "I'd love to have my own room.  Can I put posters on the wall?"
     "Of course."
     Suddenly he looked worried again.  "But I want to sleep with you."
     "I sure wouldn't stop you."  I sat beside him and put my arm on his
shoulder. 
"Your mom is worried about you.  What's wrong?"
     "I'm okay.  It's just...school is hard."
     "Tell me about it."
     "It's no big deal."  He licked his lips and got the trace of a smile on
his face.
"Can I?" he asked, bringing his hand to my crotch.
     When he became certain I was not going to respond, he unzipped me and slid
his hand inside. I felt the soft warmth of his fingers rub across my briefs,
then close
over my balls. "I want to do to you what I used to do to Jake."
     "This may not be the best time, Austin.  Your mom is worried about you."
     "He used to really like the way I did it."
     His hand groped my shaft, surveying its length beneath my Hanes. I paused,
relishing the pressures that were building.
     Austin persisted in a high-pitched, raspy voice, "But yours is so much
bigger
than his.  I might not be able to do as good a job."  His fingers wormed
through the fly
and I moaned at the contact of skin on skin.  A fever built inside me.
Forgotten were
his tears of a moment ago.  Forgotten were the hassles of the day's work.
Forgotten
was the weariness I'd brought home from work. 
     I guess he figured out my role was a passive one, because he started to
unfasten my pants.  In a throaty voice, I asked, "Did you do Jake all the
way?" I
already anticipated my orgasm.
     My pants fell to my ankles and he was already under the elastic waist band,
tugging downward.  He looked up, wide-eyed and smiling, "Um. Yeah."  My hands
came to rest on his shoulders.  "Sometimes I couldn't swallow it all fast
enough, but
don't worry. Jake taught me to clean it all up."
     My cock sprang free and he grabbed it immediately.  He sat on the edge
of the
bed and I stood before him, my hands on his shoulders for balance.  I looked
down to
see the cream-colored hair on top of his head gliding closer to my seeping
cock.  He
paused long enough for me to feel his breath on my glans.  My body
contracted from
the exquisite sensation of his soft lips.
     I knew my quivering and panting provided enough encouragement, so I didn't
bother trying to speak.  His tongue glided around my glans, and I knew I was
inside
his mouth when I felt the pressure from the back of his throat and an
accompanying
gagging.
     He lifted his head and exclaimed, "It's so big!"
     One of my hands involuntarily left his shoulder and applied pressure to
the back
of his head, urging him to return to the task.  Eager to please, the boy
returned his
mouth to my cock, and began sucking me with a greater sense of urgency. He
concentrated on taking the first three inches of my cock inside his mouth,
using both
hands to guide my shaft.  As he established a comfortable pace, one hand strayed
down to cup my already-snug balls.  I fought against the primal urge of
driving my
cock into his face, but as my orgasm built, I ended up with both hands on
the back of
his head as my hips took over.  I did manage to refrain from making him gag,
but from
the sound coming from his lips, I could tell he struggled to keep up with me.
     I cried out as my groin tightened and my semen erupted forcefully into
the back
of his throat. Austin kept himself firmly in place, and just after my second
spurt of
seed, I heard him swallow loudly.  As I regained some awareness of my
thoughts, I
looked down.  Austin looked up at me with his mouth full of my cock.  I
gently slid free
of his grasping lips, and gazed upon this beautiful child.  He was made even
more
beautiful by the slime around his lips--my slime which he had eagerly
accepted.  A few
drops dangled by long tendrils from his chin.   Without looking away from me, he
scooped them into his palm.  Another fat droplet dangled from my urethra.
Austin
stuck his tongue out and captured it from below.
     "God, that was incredible," I started to say.  He took my slackening
cock back
into his mouth and the rush of pleasure cut my sentence short.  Again I
grabbed his
head in my hands and held him.  
     I raised his head, keeping it cradled in my hands.  I meant to kiss his
beautiful
lips, to taste myself upon them, but I forgot that my pants were pooled
around my
ankles and I ended up flopping onto the bed, his body crushed beneath me. He
giggled at my lack of grace, and his lips were still set in a smile when my
lips found
them.  As he returned my open-mouthed kiss, his hand encircled my nearly-flaccid
cock.
     I realized he remained fully dressed.  As I opened his jeans I noted
his cock
was soft.  Dipping my hand into his briefs, I shook his noodle and asked,
"Didn't you
like what just happened?"
     "Oh, yeah.  I'll do that anytime you want."
     "Why isn't it stiff?"
     "I dunno.  It was all pretty intense.  I guess I was too busy to think
about
getting a boner."
     "Maybe I can fix that," I said, dropping my face to his crotch.  I
opened his
pants and began licking with slow deliberate strokes of my tongue.  His
response, a
rapid engorgement of his cock, seemed instantaneous.
     "Wow, I can't believe how good that feels." He held on tight as I
sucked in slow
pulsing rhythm, using the most suction I could.  I didn't even move my lips
on his
shaft.  My tongue had a firm grip on his slender shaft.  My lips were
pressed against
his hairless pubic mound.  He began tensing his buttocks in anticipation of
the rhythm
I'd established.  When he orgasmed, he cried out.  I quickly released him.
     "What did you do?" he asked in a shaky voice.
     I became concerned.  "Did I hurt you?"
     "No. That felt better than anything!"  He brought both hands to his
genitals.  "I
want to know what you did so I can make you feel that good.  I thought you were
going to pull my dick right off my body!"
     Much later, we emerged from the bedroom.  Chris met us at the door. 
"Everything okay?"
     Austin beamed.  "Couldn't possibly be better!  But I'm hungry.  What's for
dinner?"
     Chris looked at me with a raised eyebrow.  "You are quite a miracle
worker."
     My cheeks burned.  "Not really."
     
     The next night we shopped for a bed and a dresser.  I had an extra desk
in the
basement, and after considerable reshuffling of my possessions, Austin had
his own
bedroom.  After Austin went to bed, Chris lit a joint. "I can't believe you
gave him his
own room."
     I turned down the joint.  I didn't like scrambling my brains, which was
the end
result of regular pot use for me.  "Why does that surprise you?"
     "I would have thought you'd want him in your bed."
     "Chris."
     "Don't pretend you aren't having sex.  I can hear you guys through the
walls. 
and I can smell it.  Semen has a unique odor."
     I didn't respond for a minute.  "He wanted his own room.  I could give
it to him,
so I did it.  Why is that surprising?"
     "I guess it surprises me because I hate sleeping alone."
     "So do I."
     Austin padded into the living room in his underwear. Every time I saw
him in his
briefs I felt a tingle in my groin.  It didn't matter how often I saw him.
There are some
forms of beauty that one cannot become immune to. "Aren't you going to sit
with me
for a while?" he asked in an accusing tone of voice.
     "I didn't know you wanted me to."  I stood.
     Austin looked at his mother and asked, "If I get scared, is it okay if
I sleep in
Rick's bed?"
     "Of course."
     He took my hand and led me to his new room.  "Will you buy me a poster of
Michael Jordan?"
     "Sure."
     "Will you buy me my own radio with a tape player?"
     "Sure."
     "Will you suck me again?"
     "Austin," I scolded, quickly closing the door behind us.  
     "Well, I wanted to break in my new bed." We broke it in. When I woke up
in the
morning, Austin was nestled against my side.

     Austin came home on Tuesday, again saying school sucked.  He didn't say
much until I came in to kiss him good night and to "sit" with him. When I
got up to
follow him to his room, Chris said, "I'll see you in the morning, Rick.
Have a good
night."  She winked at me.  
     Once inside his room, Austin stripped off his briefs and hopped on the
bed face
down.
     He craned his neck to look at me as I stood over him and unbuttoned my
shirt.
The supple mounds of flesh looked perfect. "You have the world's most sexy ass."
     He giggled.  "You like my butt?"
     "I love your butt."
     "Do you want to put your dick in it?"
     "What?"  I stopped short, my pants at my knees, my erection standing
proudly
forth.
     Perhaps due to his nervousness at proposing such a thing to me, he
chattered
rapidly, "You're so big that I can't believe it would fit, but I've heard
guys talk about it
so it must be true.  One kid I knew in New Mexico said his older brother did
it to him
sometimes.  He said it hurt at first but that he got so he didn't mind it.
Especially after
they found out about using baby oil.  Anyway, he said his brother really
loved doing it
because it felt the best of anything. Anyway, I've got some baby oil in my
school bag. 
It's on the floor over there. So you can do it.  If you want to."
     "Where did you get the baby oil?" I asked, keeping the conversation
alive as I
fought with my conscience. The prospect of pressing my cock into his tender
virginal
hole surpassed any previous erotic thoughts I'd ever had. Still, there was
no way I
could get him ready for me in a single night.
     "Chris bought it for me."
     "Oh, God," I moaned.
     "She bought some Vaseline, too, but didn't say anything about it.  It
is better
than baby oil?"
     So Chris had known this was awaiting me tonight. "It's a matter of personal
preference.  I like Vaseline better myself."
     He put his hands on his buttocks and pulled his cheeks apart.  "I'm ready."
     I sat down next to him and brought my fingertip to his cleft.  A tiny
smooth spot
indicated where his anus was.  "No, you're not ready.  I would hurt you
badly if I did
that to you tonight.  If we decide to do this, it will take several days to
teach your
sphincter to relax."
     "What's a sphinx?"
     "Sphincter.  It's the tight muscle that holds your butt closed."
     "Oh."
     I rubbed my hand up his back.  "Let's kiss and hug like always.  Except
tonight,
I'll play with your bottom a little to see if you like it."
     He rolled over.  "I thought you'd want to do it."
     I rubbed his chest, then tickled my finger around in his navel. "I want
to do it,
Austin.  Making love to you...like that..will be the most wonderful thing in
my whole
life. Just thinking about it has me so horny, I'm afraid I'll cum before you
even touch
my cock."
     At that moment, I did touch his cock.  And he did orgasm.  I kept a
loose grip
on his little shaft as I bent to kiss his lips.  He wrapped both arms around
my neck
and held me in place.  His breath smelled like mint toothpaste.  Later I lay
on my back
and he climbed over the top of me to suck my cock.  As he did this, his erection
poked into my chest.  I used Vaseline to make his cleft slick, then eased my
fingertip
inside him. I seized his cock in my other hand.
     He raised his head, making his lips smack.  "It feels good."
     I pressed forward a little more and felt the vibration on my glans
caused by his
moan of pain/pleasure. My finger penetrated all the way, and he did not
cease sucking
my cock. His anus clung tightly to my finger. I began thinking that it would
take weeks
to loosen him up enough to accommodate my cock.  As he continued bobbing his
head on my cock, I searched for signs of Austin's prostate gland.  Since he
was only
10, there was only a small bump where it would eventually blossom.  When I
pressed
against it, he lifted his head.
     "Do that again," he asked. I did, rubbing my finger all around the area. He
pushed his butt back against my invading finger, and I felt his sphincter
relax a little.
"That feels good!" he exclaimed in surprise.  Then he opened his lips to
take my glans
into his mouth again, working on it with vigor.  He squeezed my balls and
milked my
shaft as he bobbed his head on my slick glans.
     I began withdrawing my finger completely, then plunging it back inside
him.  At
the end of each thrust, I prodded his prostate. I could see the slightly
wrinkled
opening, and after a few penetrations, it did not tighten as much.  He was
dilating
much faster than I had dreamed he could.
     As I felt my juices begin to rise, I poised two fingers at his opening.  By
applying gently pressure, I got the sphincter to permit entrance of both
fingers to the
first joint. "Sit on my hand," I suggested.  Without stopping his wonderful
work on my
cock, he slowly eased himself backwards. when the muscle yielded further, I
pressed
forward, putting both fingers as deeply inside him as possible.  
     He raised off my cock to yelp, but he didn't move away, so I kept my
fingers in
place. "Just relax, baby," I said soothingly.  "You've got a great ass.  I
love doing this
to you Austin.  I love you, Austin."
     "I'm okay," he whispered.  "I can't tell if it feels good or hurts."
     "Then relax and it will feel good."
     As he resumed sucking me, I began wiggling my two embedded fingers.  I
teased his erection with my other hand.  
     "I'm cumming," I warned, and only a second later, I erupted sending my seed
into his eager mouth. He held on for dear life, swallowing most of my offering.
     After my orgasm passed, I turned him on the bed so he lay on his back
with his
legs in the air.  I penetrated his ass with one finger while I sucked him off.
     Half and hour later, I put on my clothes to leave.
     "When are you going to do it?"
     "Today's Tuesday.  How about Friday night?" I suggested.
     "How about tomorrow night?"
     "Friday.  I love you."
     "I love you back."
     "I love you front," I said in a childish voice.
     "I love you top," he jested.
     "And I love you bottom.  Especially on Friday night.  Go to sleep."
     "Can I come to your room."
     I smiled.  "Of course."


     On Wednesday, his sphincter dilated almost immediately, and his butt
wiggled
around as I fingered him lustily. He orgasmed without me touching his cock.  On
Thursday when I came home from work, Austin met me at the door.  "Chris
isn't going
to be home all night.  She met someone and won't be back until Monday.  That
means we have the whole weekend completely to ourselves."
     "Great," I said, bending to hug him.
     After dinner, he sat in my lap as we watched television. I absently
caressed his
neck, and before I knew it, my hand was beneath his tee shirt, teasing his
nipples and
tickling his hairless armpits.
     "I want to do it tonight," he said.
     "Do what?" I asked, though I knew full well what he meant.
     "Go all the way with you."
     That was a term I hadn't heard since my own school days. "All the way?" I
asked, acting dumb. I felt reasonably sure he was ready--at least as ready
as he was
going to get.  I had never wanted to do anything more badly.
     He took my cheeks in both hands and looked directly into my eyes. You know
what I mean."
     "I guess I do. Let's go to the bedroom."
     "Why not right here?" he asked. "I was hoping you might sit right here
and I'd
sit on your lap.  It doesn't hurt as much that way."
     "How do you know...."  I put my hand over my eyes.  "Oh, God, don't tell me
you discussed this with...."
     "I'll get the Vaseline," he said, scampering off to the bedroom. I just
finished
undressing when he scampered back into the room.  
     "Wow," he uttered, staring at my raging erection. I took the jar from
his hand
and tossed it on the couch.  I helped him lift his tee shirt off his head.
He stripped off
the rest of his clothes in a flash.  I sat on the couch, pulling him onto my
lap once
again. Our lips locked, but he didn't really kiss me back.
     "What's wrong?" I asked.
     "I'm nervous.  The first time is going to hurt like hell anyway," he
said, and I
could imagine the words coming from Chris's lips exactly as Austin said
them. "I just
want to get it done." He leaned over and grabbed the Vaseline. He tossed the
lid onto
the floor and dug his fingers deeply into the cloudy goop.
     "Do I smear it on your cock or just on my butt?"
     I was taken aback and didn't know exactly how to respond to his sudden
business-like manner. "Both," I said simply.  My eyes closed as he rubbed
Vaseline
the length of my shaft.  Then he dug into the jar and gathered another thick
wad of
jelly.  He rubbed it on his crack.  I could tell he stuck his finger inside
a couple of
times.
     "Let me," I said gently.
     "No," he said firmly.  He lifted himself up and, facing me, tried to
make the
connection.  Placing a hand on my own cock, I helped guide him.  I gasped
when my
glans came into firm contact with his anus.
     His face contorted and he grunted.  The pressure against my cock grew and
grew.  I was afraid he might break the shaft.  After a few seconds of
intense pressure,
he raised up a little and said, "It won't go in."
     "Not easily," I said.
     He gritted his teeth and began applying downward pressure once again. "Push
out with your butt like you're trying to force a big turd out."
     He paused to look skeptically at me for a moment.  He must have decided I
wasn't kidding because I could see his stomach become more rounded as he grunted
and strained.
     I felt his sphincter give a little and I made minute entrance.  He
immediately
lifted himself and said, "It hurts."
     "That's okay.  We don't have to do this, Austin."
     With renewed resolve, he pressed his butt against my cock again. His cock
hung limply off to one side of his tightly drawn balls.  The pressure
mounted again,
and just when I felt him start to open up, he again lifted himself.
     He was crying.  "You're going to have to help me, Rick."
     "We need to wait a few days longer," I said soothingly, stroking his hair.
     "No," he said and with that he jammed himself forcefully upon my shaft.
I felt
fireworks in my head as an incredible heat and pressure grabbed my cock.  Austin
held himself in place, his cheeks stained with tears, his eyes clenched
tight, and
almost two inches of my cock wedged inside his rectum.
     "Just wait a minute.  Give your body a chance to get used to it," I
said, afraid
he was going to again raise his hips.
     "I did it!" he exclaimed, his face still contorted with pain. I kissed
the tears off
his cheeks.  He slid a little lower, making me grunt in pure ecstacy.  "Does
it feel
good?" he asked.
     "Yes," I gasped.
     He pressed my cock further into his rectum.  At about 4 inches, he
stopped. "I
don't think I can go any deeper."
     "That's okay," I said. "Maybe you could raise and lower yourself a little."
     He put his hands on my shoulders and lifted up a little.  The strokes
were slow
and shallow, but I was so aroused I was on the brink of orgasm within the
first two
minutes. I took his hips and used my hands to increase the length of each
stroke.  His
head flopped off to one side, but it was no longer contorted in pain.  He
kept his eyes
closed as he bounced up and down.
     "I'm cumming," I cried, and a moment later I pulled him tight against
me, my
semen discharging in his bowel as I moaned and thrashed like a barnyard animal.
Then he was off me and rushing to the bathroom. I followed him.
     "Are you okay?" I asked.
     He stared at my slick, drooping cock and farted wetly into the toilet.
"I can't
believe that I actually did it. It's so huge!" He reached out and grabbed my
cock. 
"Let's do it again."
     "Wait a while.  You may be too sore.  Besides, we haven't even eaten dinner
yet."
     "I'm not sore.  Didn't you like doing it to me?  Did I make you feel good?"
     "More than you could possibly know.  Next time, though, we snuggle and
caress and kiss.  I want to make love to you because I love you."
     "I love you back," he said smirking. He tugged on my cock, as if to
signal to me
how I should respond.
     Dutifully, I said, "I love you front."
     "I love you top."
     "And I love you bottom."
     "Did you ever," he said with a smile. "What are you making me for dinner?"
     There was nothing I wouldn't have done for him.

The End

Author's note:  I have many more stories to share if there is an
audience...let me
know.  Also, is there a better place to post this? I never seem to see
boy-love fiction in
UseNet. Lastly, I'm looking for a pen-pal, preferably outside the U.S.

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