The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males both youth and adult if this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
Age and Time
Have you ever thought that your age was against you?
Well, I have. Too old. Too young. When I was twelve I was too young and when I was sixty I was too old. Too old for what, you might ask. Too young for what, you ask again.
Well in my case it's always been 'for love'.
By the age of sixty I had been married twice - ya would have thought I would have learned my lesson the first time! My wives were great, good companions and both unable to deal with me. We had kids, great kids! I enjoyed being with both women, but more as best friends. I really liked them, but I never loved them. I enjoyed sex with them most of the time, but not all of the time especially my second marriage.
My whole life I lived in denial; denial that I was gay. I just didn't want to be gay and yet I did. I yearned for a man, boy, male that I could love and that would love me in return. This is not to say that in my life I've never had a gay - homosexual experience. I have, but it was either just pure hormonal lust or one-sided.
In fact before I lived with my second wife I lived with her younger brother for almost a year. He was sixteen; I was thirty-four. I was totally in love with Josh. Of course, at that time I looked like I was in my early twenties and for the most part I acted like a teenager.
He wasn't the first love of my life. My first was Leo. I think I still love him even though we haven't seen each other for what! Forty years! Wow time flies!
I kept thinking about the boy. He was so cute, blonde hair, wearing a trench coat. It was only a fleeting glance I had gotten as my dad and I got off the train in Oakland. He was wealthy; must have been because they, he and his dad, traveled Pullman class and we of course weren't poor; my dad was just a penny pincher, so we went coach.
I had wanted to run after him, but that would never do. It was the late fifties and boys my age don't go running after other boys. If only I had been twelve, then it would have been considered okay, but I was fifteen, almost sixteen.
I had missed my opportunity as usual. If only I wasn't so shy.
We spent a few days visiting my mother and grandfather. Dad and I stayed at a local motel. My mom had her own apartment, which I never got to see. A year earlier I had practically begged my dad to let me move to California. I never told him, but the only real reason I wanted to go was because I wanted to change my life. I wanted to be popular; I wanted to be normal. I just didn't like who I was and what I was. But needless to say it never happened maybe it was my mom that didn't want me and my dad just didn't want me to know. I never knew what went on behind the scenes only once did my dad ever talk to me on level grounds.
Christmas was terrible. In fact it was singularly the worst Christmas of my life. I had forgotten to get a present for the most important person in my life. I remember waking up Christmas morning rushing over to the tree like I was a six year old to see what presents there were for others and me. I was going through them when suddenly I realized, I hadn't gotten a present for my dad. I had gotten a present for my mom, my grandparents, but not my dad.
Ho could I have been so stupid, so heartless. I just started crying. So there I was in front of a Christmas tree laden with gifts mainly for me crying my eyes out.
"Sebbie, what's wrong?" my mom asked.
"I-I forgot to buy Daddy a present. I completely forgot," I cried. I felt so devastated. I mean my dad was like the center of my universe even though at times it was like we were more like distant suns.
Mom tried to cajole me and tried to make it seem like it wasn't that big of a deal, but to me it was.
"Here, Sebbie, why don't you give him this card and say your present to him is to fix his breakfast even on the weekends for say a month."
I did as she suggested, but every Christmas since then I seem to always remember that Christmas as the worst Christmas of my life. If he was hurt he never showed it, but the damage had been done. Of course his present to me wasn't the greatest gift a father could give to a son; it was an electric frying pan, which I had asked for because I had to cook his breakfast every weekday morning, and now on the weekends too.
I noticed I was getting a hard-on. God! I hated getting a sudden hardon and wouldn't you know it, my dad asked if I would switch places with the lady across the aisle from us so they could talk.
"I can't," I whispered.
"Why not?" he asked.
I blushed, "I just can't!"
He looked at me, smiled and then said quietly, "Thinking about girls, huh?"
I blushed again turning my head away.
"Well, Leo, why don't you trade places with me so I can talk with your mom."
They made the switch and I noticed my Dad whisper something to the woman, she giggled and looked at me. I turned ten shades of red! How could he? Tell a complete stranger that I had an erection! I quickly turned my head and I continued looking out the window and when things subsided a bit I started reading my book about self-hypnosis.
Now why would a fifteen-year-old boy be studying self-hypnosis? That was another weird thing about me. Try as I could I could never enter a hypnotic state. I'd had some the best hypnotists try with zero results. I, myself, wasn't too bad a hypnotist. I had successfully hypnotized several of my school friends. I thought maybe I could succeed on me where others had failed and then I could change myself; change my pathetic soul. I could just say the magic words "you are not a queer" and I would never be interested in boys again. Suddenly, I would be attracted to girls and would think about them when I jacked-off instead of guys.
I darted a glance at the boy sitting next to me his eyes were closed. So, I ventured another look. He was sort of cute and as I quickly studied him I noticed the beginnings of leg hair, which meant he was probably over thirteen. His eyes opened.
"Hi, I'm Sebastian McCormick, most people call me Bastian. What's your name?"
"Leo. Leo Hare. Where are you all going?"
"Home. Fort Worth, Texas. We've been visiting my mom and grandparents. Where are ya'll goin'?"
"Denver. We're going to stay with some friends my parents are getting divorced." He looked so sad.
"My parents got divorced a couple of years ago, but my mom left home when I was seven," I said sort of hoping to let him know I had had things a lot worse than he so maybe he'd feel better.
"I guess she and my dad didn't get along and she didn't like us kids that much, I was her favorite. We spent a whole summer together when I was thirteen. Then after that she and my father got divorced. I wanted to go live with her but it never happened."
For the next two days we talked about ourselves our likes and dislikes. For two days we were inseparable. Playing cards, talking, I even got him to let me sketch a drawing of him which I gave to him as a parting gift on our arrival in Denver.
I had this brief glimpse of the future when he left with his mom. So fleeting that it almost didn't exist, but I knew I would see him again in the near future. I just knew it.
Dad had promised me I could go to Estes Park while he visited some friends in Denver so I went on up to Estes Park. Estes Park is nestle in the Rockies and is the closest town to Rocky Mountain National Park. I'd spent a summer there two years ago with my mom. At the time I just knew things would change that I'd start getting hair down below like most of my friends, but it never happened, not even one little sweet innocent pubic hair grew down there until I was fourteen and a half.
I would have to say that it was one of the best times I had in my life. I loved the Rockies, the wildlife. It was a summer full of fond memories that in some way I was hoping to relive again.
When I arrived I checked into a hotel and then headed for the ski resort. Of course I didn't know how to ski so, I simply took photographs and ice-skated for a while.
I thought about how much more fun it would be if Leo was with me. We would have had a great time sledding in the sledding area. But he wasn't there I was alone. The snow was so well packed that it was like sliding down a sheet of ice and after an hour I ended up with a splitting headache and decided to head back to the hotel.
Of course smart me I had forgotten to look at the bus schedule and the next bus wasn't for two and a half hours. So, I decided I'd try to hitchhike.
I hadn't walked but a mile when a car pulled over.
"Need a ride?" Asked the stranger.
"Sure," I said as I got into the car. "You're going to Estes Park, right?" I asked.
"Do you live in this area?"
"No. I just came up for the day. My dad is in Denver and my mom is in California - they're divorced. We were just out there visitin'."
He smiled pleasantly. "Ah! I'll wager you, you come from Texas!"
"Yes sir." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. My headache was killing me.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes sir, I just have a splitting headache. You don't mind if I try and relax a bit maybe it will go away?"
"No uh not at all."
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew he was waking me up. "Where are you staying?"
"At the hotel," I said groggily.
"Well, here we are. I'm staying here too."
"Well, thanks for the ride, sir," I said as I got out of the car and made my way to my room. I called my Dad and then lay down for a while. I woke about an hour later - headache practically gone and I was starving.
I went down to the restaurant in the hotel and had a beffalo burger. I guessed that it was part buffalo and part beef anyway it was good.
A man sitting at the next table kept looking at me and finally I said "Hi! Do ya'll know me?"
He smiled saying, "Well, no, but we have met. Are you feeling better now? You look better, I swear at one point you looked like death warmed up."
He was the man who gave me the ride down from the ski area. "Oh, I apologize for being rude, sir, I was feeling pretty bad, I had a terrible headache it's practically gone now."
"You know instead of shouting across the tables why don't you join me. Tell you what desserts on me."
"Well " he seemed friendly enough and he had given me a ride, "I did see a chocolate cake that looked mighty appetizing!"
"Sebastian McCormick, most people call me Bastian," I said as I sat down across from him and reached out to shake his hand.
"John Andrews. I'm please to meet you, Bastian."
"Excuse me for askin', sir, but your accent is different from anybody else I've ever met. Your not from round here, right?" I asked.
"I'm from England, London."
I was fascinated by his accent and his manner. We talked about England and Texas and the things were liked and disliked. He told me of his travels to Africa and Australia and I was spellbound.
"So, my boy, tell me about your summer here in the Rockies."
"My mom and I came here when I was thirteen. We brought her horse, Blaze, with us. Blaze is my horse now "
"You have a horse?"
"I love horses! But do go on."
"I spent the whole summer horseback riding, hiking up in the mountains. I got into trouble once with the rangers; I was on a photo tour hike with a group of people. I'd been on that trail before and there was the great shot so I went ahead of everybody. I got the picture I wanted but when the ranger caught up with me he gave me such a ballin' out."
"Nothing," he laughed, "You just sound a lot like me when I was your age."
"You mean you were my age once?" I said with a surprised look on my face and then I laughed.
Our conversation continued for a while longer. Occasionally we got on to the subject of girls and girlfriends. I blushed a lot and I pretended to be really interested and tired to change the subject a couple of times. I guess sort of noticeably changed the subject.
"Are you a poofta?" he asked quietly.
I knew what he meant and I could feel my embarrassment ragging through my face. "Think, Seb, think!" thought to myself looking down at my empty plate. "What do you mean, what's a poofta?"
"Oh, sorry, you know a queer, homosexual."
"No. I'm not one of them." There was an unbearable silence. "Why did you ask that question?"
"Oh, I just noticed you change the subject every time we get on the subject of women."
"Oh, God what do I say?" I thought as I sat there. I wanted to leave.
"I-I'm not that experienced with women." I blushed. "I'm still a virgin," I practically whispered.
He nodded his head and smiled. That was it for me. I was scared the conversation would stay on this so I looked at my watch.
"Wow! Look at the time. I gotta go. My bus leaves pretty early back to Denver." I got out my wallet to pay for the dessert.
"Bastian, I didn't upset you did I?" he asked.
"No. No, it's just that it's late and I have to catch the bus." I opened my wallet.
"Hey, the dessert is on me. Have a safe trip back home."
"Thanks, and thanks for the dessert."
"My pleasure " he looked like he was going to say something more, but I had to get out of there so I turned and left without looking back.
My crying was interrupted by a knock at my door. I tried to ignore it, and then I heard someone called my name, "Sebastian."
I went to the door. "Who's there?"
"Bastian, it me, John."
"I was in bed," I lied, "What, what do you want?"
"Well, could you open the door? I hate talking through closed doors."
"I'm not dressed " I lied again.
"Hey we're guys. We're all built the same."
What was I going to do? What had he seen in me? What or how had I been acting for him to even think of asking me if I was queer? Why was he here? Was he queer? He didn't seem queer, but then I had no idea of how a queer people acted I'd always imagined queers like to dress up in dresses and make up. I never do that nor did I want to did that make me not queer?
I quickly messed up my bed and my hair took my shirt off and then opened the door forgetting the fact that my eyes were red and swollen from having cried so hard.
John just stood there for a moment looking at me. His arm came up and he placed his hand gently on my shoulder. I flinched slightly, but he didn't remove it.
"I'm really sorry," he said quietly and gently, "I didn't mean to upset you."
Why did he have to be so nice! I could feel my bottom lips begin to tremble and hot tears began rolling down my cheeks. I again couldn't speak; my heart was racing so fast. I could feel the warmth of his hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, Bastian," he said so softly as he pulled me into a hug. I began sobbing and he just held me close. "Bastian, it's okay."
"No. No, it's not. I-I just want to die. I don't want to be me anymore," I sobbed.
He held me at arms length and looked at me saying quietly and gently, "Sebastian McCormick, don't ever let me hear you say that again. You are the most beautiful boy I have ever met, ever seen! You are so smart and you're fantastically witty. My God boy! You are perfect just the way you are!"
My tears which had slowed down a bit suddenly welled up in my eyes and spilled over onto my cheeks as I all but whispered, "But, I think I am queer and " I started sobbing again and John pulled me into a hug and I rested my head on his chest and continue weeping.
"Sebastian, there is nothing wrong with that we are not all perfect. There is nothing wrong with loving another boy. I know what you're feeling; I know how lonely you feel. I was a teen once myself."
I lift my head to look into his face. I saw tear tracks down his cheeks. He'd been crying too and I hadn't even noticed. I had been so wrapped up in my own self I hadn't noticed. "You're queer?"
He smiled slightly, "Yes."
I think John told me he was
forty-six, but he didn't look it. He was four years younger than my father,
but at that moment he just didn't seem old. He was just John and I was
just Sebastian. I knew we'd only just met, but it seemed like we'd always
been friends. I was for a moment so happy
I was just staring at him
and beginning to smile.
I buried my head into his chest from embarrassment. I felt the wetness of his shirt from my tears and pulled my head away.
"I got your shirt wet."
"Well, that my dear boy can be easily handled," he said as he took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair. We resumed our hug and I laid my head on his bare chest. He kissed the top of my head and I looked up at him.
"I have a bit of a confession to make myself," he said, "but do you think we could lay on your bed?"
He lay down on the bed with the pillows propping him up so he was sort of half sitting up then patted the bed beside him and I laid down and cuddled up next to him resting my head on his chest with his arm wrapped around me.
"I saw you taking pictures and I watched you sledding. I thought you were you were the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen."
I looked up at him and he was blushing. I giggled.
"What?" he asked.
"You blushed," I giggled.
"Well, it's embarrassing to be so open with you," he blushed again but this time I just smiled and lay my head back down.
"Anyway, I saw you leave and so I rushed to my motorcar and went after you it was pure lust on my part." He sighed deeply; "I just wanted to get into your pants so bad! But then you got out of the car and I figured I'd missed my chance and then you showed up for dinner and my hopes rose again. And again it was out of lust nothing else " Another deep sigh before he continued.
"But as we talked something happened I found myself just enjoying listening to you, just enjoying being with you. I really liked you, but then my lustful side made its last attempt to woo you and I asked you if you were a poofta - queer. I honestly didn't think you were, I just thought if you didn't have any animosity towards queers I could make a pass."
"A pass at me? What do you mean?" I asked looking at his reddening face.
"Get you into bed, have sex with you," he said rapidly and turned even redder in the face.
"Blimey! You make things difficult!"
"Sorry I-I just don't know about these things "
"Look this is really embarrassing for me. In my whole life I've never met anyone like you; I mean I don't know what I mean It's just that after you left the dinning room I felt like bloody shit! I felt ashamed of myself and I knew that I had upset you. It took all my courage just to come up here to apologize to you because I've never felt this way with anyone before.
I'm just very fond of you."
I laid my head back down on his chest, "I'm very fond of you too, John."
I guess we lay like that for a while before I fell asleep because the next thing I knew the phone was ringing.
"Hello," I said sleepily, "Oh, hi, Dad yeah I'm awake " I said as I got out of bed, "I'm up, Dad, honest. Okay, no sir I won't miss the bus bye."
I got into the bathtub, turned on the shower and laid back and let the water run over my body. I started thinking about John and how kind he was. I felt so safe in his arms. I thought about his hairy chest and immediately started getting hard. I thought about him kissing me and then vaguely remembered that he had kissed me on the cheek last night before he left the room. I imagined kissing him back on the lips and moments later a million 'amount to nothings' went down the drain and I relaxed.
After my shower I got dressed and went down for breakfast. I sat so I could see who came into the restaurant. I poked away at my breakfast hardly eating a thing waiting and hoping he walk into the room, but he never showed up. I asked for the bill.
"Hon, you've hardly eaten a thing!" said the waitress, "was there something wrong with it?"
I smiled politely, "No, ma'am. I'm not hungry." I looked at my watch I only had five minutes left before the bus would leave. I picked up my bag and walked to the bus. I was the last in line.
"Come along your man, we have to leave. Whoever, your expecting ain't gonna show," said the bus driver.
I took one last look as I boarded the bus, but John wasn't there; the driver closed the door and I took a seat at the very back of the bus. I felt so empty, so lost, and so alone as the bus pulled away.
We weren't a 100 yards down the rode when I turned to take my last look at the hotel as the bus started to turn the corner. I saw someone run out to the street. It was John!
"Stop! Stop the bus!" I screamed grabbing my stuff and heading for the front of the bus as the bus rounded the corner.
"Young man, I can not stop the bus I have a schedule to keep!"
"Please! Please stop I have to get off!"
"If I stop. You have to pay for another ticket or catch a bus from Loveland."
"I don't care. I just have to get off!"
He stopped the bus and I ran back around the corner. John was still standing at the side of the road. When he saw me he started running towards me. When we met both of us were out of breath.
"Oh, Bastian! Oh, Bastian!" he gulped in a lung full of air. We embraced each other.
"John," I took a large gulp of air, tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I was laughing and it hurt because my lungs felt like they we on fire. This high altitude was killing me! Things got dark and I felt my body go limp.
The next thing I knew was I was back in the hotel lying on a couch feet elevated and John wiping my brow with a cold washcloth. I smiled at him.
"I thought you forgot about me. I thought I'd never see you again and then I saw you and I had to say goodbye."
He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. He looked into my face and I smiled.
"I am so sorry, I was sleeping like a log and I heard the bus honk. As I saw the bus turn the corner I thought you were gone forever from my life, but I would spend every penny I have to find you again. Oh Bastian, when I saw you running back "
A tear fell from his eye and rolled down his cheek followed by another and another. I reached out and pulled him into a hug as he began to weep quietly for few moments until he pulled away.
"So, you decided to stay another day?"
"Oh, shit. Oh God. I'm dead." I sat up. My dad was going to kill me. What the hell was I going to do? I could see it now. Daddy I uh missed the bus, well I didn't exactly miss it Oh god I could never tell him the truth. He'd probably disown me. I wonder how long it would take me to walk to Loveland? It must be thirty or forty miles from here couple of hours if I'm lucky and can get a ride then about two hours, but I have no idea how often the buses run from Loveland to Denver
"Bastian, are you all right?" asked John bringing me back to this world.
"No our train leaves at 2:30. Daddy is going to kill me. If I hitch to Loveland I be there by ten or ten-thirty. It takes at least three hours from Loveland to Denver cuz you stop at every po-dunk town." I was beginning to hyperventilate.
"Bastian, relax. Calm down. I will take you to Denver," he smiled, "I'll talk with your Dad. Okay?"
I relaxed and smiled.
"Oh, please don't smile like that," he said in a lowered voice, "It makes me want to kiss you!"
I stopped smiling and pushed out my bottom lips in a pouty sort of way.
"Oh, God! That's worse!" he giggled and stood up. "I'm going to my room before I get in trouble."
I sat there on the couch thinking about what had happened as John headed for the stairs. I had never done and thing as crazy. Seeing John walking away from me made me want to run after him, to stay with him. It was like he had filled some unknown void in my life that I could no longer be without.
"John, wait up!" I called out to him when he was half way up the stairs. He stopped and turned towards me as I ran up to meet him.
"Yes," he asked.
"I, uh, don't want to wait in the lobby."
"I think it best."
"Why?" I felt hurt and I could feel my bottom lips begin to quiver and I looked away.
"Because I think it best."
What was wrong with me? I had never been an emotional person - I had cried more in the last twenty-four hours than I could remember crying in my whole life even when my mom left home I never cried and yet here I was fifteen almost sixteen crying like a baby over what? The fact that I had to wait in the lobby.
I hurt so much inside. I tried not to look at John. I turned to walk back down but he grabbed my arm.
"Come on, Bastian," he said quietly.
When we got inside his room he closed the door then turned and looked at me. The tears were still gushing down my face.
"Bastian, what is it? What's wrong?"
I was crying so hard, all I could get out was "I-I-I don't kno-kno-know. Wh-when y-y-you told me I-I had to, to, to wait. It- it hurts, John."
I was now sobbing uncontrollably and again he took me in his arms and held me tight. I started to calm down when finally he spoke gently and softly to me, "Sebastian, remember what I said last night about my lustful side well, when we were downstairs and you gave me that pouty look - I wanted you so bad, to hold you and kiss you and make love to you. I told you to wait in the lobby because I couldn't trust myself not to do something. Sebastian, I never want to hurt you, I love you."
"Oh, Sebastian, my Sebastian! I love you so much. More than I have ever loved anybody or anything. When I saw the bus leave - it hurt and I was so angry with myself, but when I saw you running back to me I realized that I was hopelessly in love with you. I love you, Sebastian."
I lifted my head off his chest. My tears had stopped. I looked at his shirt and then into his face. "I got your shirt wet again."
"I'm not taking my shirt off," he smiled.
"Awwww, I like your hairy chest, no actually ol'chap," I giggled, "I love your hairy chest." I looked up into his face, "I love you." I kissed him on the lips. It was the first time I have ever kissed anyone on the lips. I kissed him again. His hand moved up my back to the back of my head and I could feel his tongue parting my lips our tongues gently caressed each other. I was instantly hard and I could feel his harden dick pressing against me. I moaned in pleasure as my passion grew. I reached my hand down and grabbed his hardened member.
He broke the kiss and held me at arms length. I let go of his dick.
"Bastian, we have to stop," he said. A look of disappointment must have appeared on my face. "Bastian, I love you with all my heart, but this isn't right. I want to continue as much as you do but it just won't workout, not now. We hardly know each other and besides you're too young to be jumping into bed with an old man like me."
"I love you John and you're not an old man!"
"I'm three times your age. And you're still living under your father's roof. So you tell me, do you think your father would approve of us having sex?"
"I don't care what my father approves of or not! I love you."
"Bastian, I could be arrested and go to jail, you are under age. Do you want that?"
"No, but I love you. I love you more than anything. I want to live with you forever!" I was crying again.
"Bastian, I love you to, but now is not the time or the place for us maybe when you're a bit older and not living with your father. I love you. I will always love you. There will be a tomorrow and maybe then we can be together." He turned and went into the bathroom and closed the door.
He was right. I wrote him a note, it simply said:
PS. I am waiting in the lobby.
I place the note on his bed and left.
A few hours later he dropped me off at the Denver train station. Before I got out of the car I said, "I'll never forget you, I promise. And I'll write, I promise," I whispered. Then kissed him on the cheek. He looked at me with such love. I could feel it. I could sense his love for me and I think he sensed the way I felt.
I got out of the car. As he
pulled away I watch him and waved to him. I could feel the tears rolling
down my cheeks. I wanted to run after him, but I didn't. I couldn't. I
was too young
|Well, whatcha think? Want to hear more? Comments welcomed - Sebastian firstname.lastname@example.org|