Date: Sat, 5 Jun 1999 23:28:06 -0400 From: Sidney Gittler Subject: Arkansas Vacation As always this is a work of complete fiction. It does involve sexual relations between an adult male and a teenaged boy. So if that stuff turns you off and/or is illegal in your area then please leave. Otherwise, read and enjoy. All comments welcome to sidg@compuserve.com ARKANSAS VACATION Tim's Story: Meeting Pat, before the vote by Tim edited and copyright by Sid G. 1999 I'm laying in bed, having just finished a long session of making love to my beautiful young man, Pat. And I'm thinking about how we met. How we came to be best friends and lovers. I suppose that I should introduce myself. My name is Tim Johnson. I am 26 years old and graduated from a small Midwestern college with a degree in Public Administration. I am 5'10" and 162 pounds. Oh, and I have two other characteristics that often evoke very different emotions in some people: I'm gay and I'm handicapped (in PC terms: physically challenged). I've known I was at least bisexual, if not gay, since I was 13. For whatever reason, guys always seemed to draw my attention much more often than the girls did. I found myself checking out the other guys in gym class and in the showers. My jack off fantasies always seemed to involved guys much more than girls. By 15, I had one date with a girl. Not bad, you would say. You would if, like me, you had spent almost the entire date thinking about one of the star basketball players on the high school freshman squad, Jon Artins. Funny, I don't remember the name of the girl. Anyway, I never had another date with a girl. Any socializing I did was with guys, usually athletes. The times we went out sometimes ended in circle jerks or blow jobs. While my friends usually laughed off such events as just exploration, I have to admit that I liked to give and receive blow jobs. I had managed to get myself appointed to the position of student manager with the boy's basketball team in my junior year when disaster struck. Driving home with my family from visiting relatives over Christmas break, we were involved in a bad traffic accident. While other members of the family ended up with assorted bumps and bruises, I ended up with the bones in my left calf broken in five places and a knee that would look like a sixteen year NFL lineman's knee, with scars from many operations, rather than a sixteen year old boy's. The doctors tried hard to put my leg back together, and for the most part succeeded. The only problem was that the muscles and tendons in the area of the knee never seemed to heal properly. The result was that I could walk a few steps without any support, but for any distance I needed a cane or, on a bad day, crutches. Remarkably, through perseverance and home tutoring, I was able to graduate with my class. I also had my first relationship my senior year, although it was more a one night stand than anything else. In college, I managed to once more manage the men's basketball team and had a three year relationship with the first guard off the bench. It was he who got me interested in lifting weights as a way to keep in shape and to try and strengthen my legs. The relationship ended when we both graduated and went our separate ways. With my degree in Public Administration, I went job searching. I applied for jobs all over the country but got only a couple of offers, only one of which was worth anything: a job as assistant to the Mayor for the City of Peckertown, Arkansas. I briefly considered going to grad school for my Masters, but decided that I could get that later if I wanted to. I moved down to Peckertown late in the summer of 1997 and found an apartment soon afterwards. I arrived just in time to get involved in the great debate over the sex and alcohol laws. Officially, I remained neutral, being a newcomer to the area. Privately, I found myself hoping the laws passed. You see, if I had a preference in men, it for younger men or teenagers with smooth, hairless chests. The new laws, if passed, would allow me to exercise my preference more easily. As the day of the vote came closer, the campaign became increasingly bitter. Reverend Joshua Erickson, the leader of the anti-change forces, began to become increasingly irrational in arguing against the new laws. Especially as it became clear that the laws were going to pass by a large margin. It was during the turbulent last days before the vote that I met my love. I had stayed late at work one day in March to work on the town's budget for the upcoming fiscal year. Being a unusually mild day, I had decided to walk home from the town hall. My knee was feeling OK so this only required using my cane that day. As I was walking, I happened to pass the Town Park where some boys were playing basketball. Several of them were not wearing any shirts, so I decided to take this opportunity to check out the local scenery. I found a picnic table relatively close to the court where I could sit and watch. One boy in particular attracted my attention. He was average in size for his age which I estimated to be either 13 or 14. He had straight blond hair which was parted to one side. There didn't look to be an ounce of fat on him. He had what looked to be nickel sized nipples topping off a set of developing pecs. He seemed to be a good athlete, at least for playground hoops. He played hard and looked like he was having fun in the process. Soon after I started watching, one of the boys announced that he had to go home. The others begged him to stay but he couldn't. When he left, the other boys spotted me. The boy who had attracted my attention earlier came over to where I was sitting and asked "Hey, mister! You want to come and play some hoops? We're short a man." "No, I'm afraid I can't. Unfortunately, I have a torn up knee and can't do more than watch." "OK. Well, I guess that's it for the night!" he said to the others. He turned to go get his t-shirt. "Wait! Can you stay awhile and talk?" "I really should be getting home, too." "Alright. What's your name? Do you play here often?" I asked. "My name's Pat, Pat Thompson. We'll probably be back here tomorrow night. We try to get a game in after school whenever we can. Who are you?" he replied. "My name is Tim Johnson. I work at the Town Hall. Would you mind if I came by and watched?" "Sure, no problem. We could always use an audience." With that he picked up his t-shirt and put it on. As he was leaving with his friends, he turned and gave me a quick thumbs up. I got up and continued my walk home. I felt slightly light headed as I hobbled the last few steps to my apartment door. As I opened the door and walked in, I considered what had happened. If nothing else I had made a new friend. Could it have been more? I didn't know. Why would a boy, a healthy young man, be anything more than a friend to a 'cripple' like me? I mean, I do not consider my self lucky enough to hope to find someone this quickly. Especially someone like Pat. The next several afternoons were hectic ones as the referendum approached. Queries as to what was allowed at the polling places; how much electioneering could be done the day of the vote and so on. Inevitably the questions ended up coming to the new guy, me. Trying not to let personal feelings enter into any answers I gave, especially to Rev. Erickson, who badgered anybody at the office so that he be given every advantage necessary to win, was very difficult. "God demands this!" "God insists that I be allowed to do this!" "If I am not allowed to do whatever is necessary, Satan will win. His evil cannot be allowed to spread!" And so on, ad nauseam. The only relief came at the end of the day when I wandered to the park to watch the kids play ball. And to talk to Pat. Talking to Pat was good therapy after a long day at the office. Initially, he would come over during breaks in the game and we would talk about hoops, pro and college. By the third day, he was staying after the rest of the boys had gone home. During that time, I learned about his life in Peckertown. School, sports, and other things. I learned that he was fourteen years old and in the eighth grade; that he lived with his parents, a brother and two sisters. That he was the oldest son, with one sister being two years older. His favorite teams were the Kansas City Chiefs, the Chicago Bulls and the Cleveland Indians. His hero was Michael Jordan. About the only thing he didn't talk about was girls. This may have been a result of shyness about such things. Or it may have been something else. I began to hope that it was something else. By the eve of the vote, Pat and I had certainly become friends. We had gone back to my apartment after the hoops game. He had called home to let them know were he was and to ask permission to stay for dinner. For the first time, he brought up a subject he had not spoken about before. "Tim?" "Yes, Pat." "What do you think will happen with the vote tomorrow? My folks think that it will be defeated." "Well, I wouldn't get my hopes up. Everything I've seen indicates that the vote will go the other way," I said handing him a Coke. He popped the can, took a drink and sighed. "I have to hope that it fails." "And why is that?" "My parents follow Rev. Erickson. They think that if the new law passes, that Rev. Erickson will move on. Dad has said that we will go where ever the 'good Reverend' goes." "The way you said that means you don't agree?" "I don't want to leave my friends. And besides, ah, there's another reason." "And that is?" "I don't want to say." With that, he turned away. I leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Pat, you can tell me. I swear that I won't tell anyone else without your permission." His shoulders sagged and I thought I heard a quiet sob. "Pat, what's wrong? Are you OK?" Pat turned back to face me. He had tears in his eyes. "If I tell you you'll hate me. I'd be evil; a devil's spawn. You would kick me out, and I would loose a good friend." "Pat, I've only known you for a few days. But already, I consider you a friend! A friend who cares for you and would never kick you out unless you have killed someone lately. You haven't, have you? Killed someone, I mean." I said this last with a half smile on my face, trying to lighten the mood a little. "No, but I might as well have," he sobbed. "And why is that?" "I, I think, ah, I think that I, ah, might be gay! There, I've said it! Are you happy?! Now, I'll go before you tell me to leave!" "Pat, wait! I meant what I said! Please stay!" "Didn't you hear what I said? I said I'm gay!" "So? That doesn't change anything. Why should it? A true friend doesn't turn on someone for that small a reason. Why should I? What you said is what you are. It doesn't make a difference to me." "But ... but, I'm evil. I don't belong with normal people. I'd just contaminate everyone around me with my evil." "Your friends at school, or your hoops buddies. Have you contaminated them? Are they evil? Have you done anything that would lead them to do bad? Or you, yourself, have you broken the law? Or hurt anyone?" "No. But Rev. Erickson and my Dad say ..." "Let me guess. They've told you, and everyone else, that gays are evil; child molesters or worse: demons in disguise. Well, they're wrong! The Bible says almost nothing on the subject. They fear what they cannot understand and call it evil. Anything that is different from what they conceive of as normal is also evil." Pat once more turned from me. I had to calm down or else I'd lose him. "Pat," I said in a quieter voice. "Pat, please sit down. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with those who would destroy a young life before it has begun by their prejudices. There are many examples of gays prominent in history. Alexander the Great was at least bisexual. Michelangelo was gay. Were they evil? Whether someone is gay or not has no bearing on whether that person is evil. Look at me. Am I evil?" Pat turned his head towards me and stared. "What do you mean 'Am I evil?'" "I am gay, Pat." He continued to stare for several minutes before he found his voice again. "How ... how did you know?" "I just never seemed to like girls. I would scope out other guys in the showers after gym and after basketball practice. At night, in bed, I would fantasize about other guys. Finally, I found someone to 'explore' with. We never made love, but my friend and I gave each other blowjobs and jacked each other off. It wasn't until college that I lost my virginity to a man who was patient enough to wait until I was ready. How about you, Pat? What makes you think you are gay?" "Well, mostly the same things that made you think so. I don't seem to like girls. I check out guys in the showers. And I masturbate to fantasies of making out with guys, especially a couple of the guys you've seen in the park, Brad and John. Lately though, another guy has started popping up." He blushed a deep red and smiled shyly. I smiled in return and asked the obvious. "Who is it?" The young boy continued to blush and said quietly, "It's you, Tim." I opened my arms wide and he scooted over into my embrace. I kissed the top of his head and hugged him tightly. After a couple of minutes, he surprised me by tilting his head back and kissing me on the lips. "Pat, are you sure that you want to do this?" "Yes, I am." "Alright. Just let me know if you don't want to do something. I don't want to push you into anything." With that, I pressed my lips against his; my tongue seeking and gaining entrance to his mouth. His tongue returning the favor by entering my mouth. We only paused for a moment to remove each others' shirts. Our hands wandered over our naked backs. I suggested that we might want to continue this in my bedroom, since I hadn't bothered to close the curtains on my apartment's windows. Pat offered to let me lean on him as we walked to my bedroom. As we walked to the bedroom, I happened to glance at the kitchen clock. 9:00! Where had the time gone?? "Pat, when do you have to be home?" "8:30. Why?" He looked at the clock. "Oh shit! I better get going! See you tomorrow?" "Probably later than today. The polls don't close until 7:00, which means I may not be home until 8-8:30. Tell you what, I'll give you a call when I get home and we'll see then." "OK! See ya!" he said grabbing his shirt, and running out the door. Election day passed too slowly for me. I voted when the polls opened at 7:00 am and basically sat in my office doing relatively minor paperwork until the polls closed twelve hours later. It was obvious that the measures allowing the lowering the age for sexual consent and the drinking age were going to pass by large margins shortly after the polls closed. But I had to stay until all the votes were counted as I was the town's representative on the election board (nobody else had wanted the job). As soon as all the votes were counted and verified, I "ran" to my car and tried to set speed records for Peckertown on the way home. Imagine my surprise when I saw a small figure sitting on the porch of my apartment. What was he doing here? Was something wrong? I got out of my car and moved as quickly as possible towards him. Pat jumped up and ran over to me, almost knocking me over in the process. "Whoa, boy! What's up? I thought you were going to wait until I called before coming over." "I couldn't wait. I told my folks that I had to talk with you about something. They said OK, but be back by ten o'clock. They also said that I wouldn't be going into school tomorrow, that we had to talk about what the family would do now." "OK. Let's go inside. Want something to drink?" "A Pepsi please," he replied as he walked into the apartment. I got him a Pepsi and myself a Miller Lite. I went into the living room, no Pat. "Where are you?" I shouted. "In the bedroom!" I walked into my bedroom and saw one of the most beautiful sights I had yet seen in Peckertown. Pat sat on my bed wearing just a pair of blue and green boxers, the rest of his clothes scattered on the floor. His smile would have lit up the darkest night. His body looked like it belonged on a young Greek god. Smooth chest and stomach with just a hint of the man he would become. Legs covered by a thin scattering of blond hairs as were his arms. I think I was in love! Pat motioned me to sit down next to him. "Can we start where we left off last night?" "Sure," I answered. I put down the two drinks and proceeded to strip down to my own boxers. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him, one hand on his back, the other behind his head. As our lips met, his tongue darted into my mouth and began a long duel with my tongue. If this was his first time, he was a fast learner. Eventually, the duel was broken off. I looked into Pat's eyes and saw a need for more there. I gently pushed him down on to his back and kissed his forehead. "Pat, if you feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop." His husky reply was that he would certainly let me know. I then proceeded to kiss and lick my way down his teenage body. I kissed him once more, lightly, on the lips. Then his neck. His shoulders. I worked my way onto his chest. Slowly sucking on one nipple, licking my way over to the other nipple, slowly sucking on it, then back to the first nipple to start the process over again. His response was to grab hold of my head and keep it on his chest. That and a low moan that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. I finally broke off from his chest leaving behind two wet and hard nipples. Licking my way down his torso, I stopped momentarily to suck on his belly button, an innie. At this point I moved one of my hands to his crotch and began to message an already hard teenage cock. More and louder groans emerged from Pat. "Tim, if you don't stop I'm going to cum," he moaned. "Well, then I suppose that I better make sure that we don't make a mess." I tugged on his boxers to pull them down and he raised his hips to help. I now got my first look at his cock. About 6" long, cut and hard. The stimulation he had been getting had led to a large wet spot on the boxers and a small pool of pre-cum between crotch and belly button. I moved the cock out of the way so as to lick up the pre-cum. It was the sweetest tasting in memory. I began to lick my way around his cock down to his balls. More moans as first one ball than the other and finally both found their way into my mouth. "Please," he cried. "Make me cum. OH GOD!! Please suck me-e-e-e!" How could I turn down such a request? I released his balls and took the head of his cock in between my lips and lightly sucked. Unfortunately, for I wanted this to last, that was all it took. "AAAAARGH! HERE IT CUMS, TIM!!! I'M CU-U-U-M-M-M-M-I-N-G!!!!!!! OH GOD! I'M CUMMING!" he screamed as his body went rigid as a steel rod. As for myself, it was like being in the middle of a one cannon artillery barrage. The first several shots of cum went right down my throat not even stopping to let me taste it. When the barrage finally slowed, I was able to enjoy the sweet taste of a teenage boy. I licked the now softening cock clean and looked up to see a sleepy smile on Pat's face. "God, Tim. That was great. I've never had such feelings before. It was fantastic." "Glad you liked it." "Would you like me to do it for you?" "You don't have to. I'm just glad I was able to do it for you." "I want to. Now lay back and enjoy." Pat started out the same way I had. A light kiss on the lips followed by the licking and sucking of my nipples and chest. What made Pat's sucking different was the hard cock that had laid itself against my calf. It was leaving a trail of precum as Pat moved down my body. When Pat finished my chest, he stood and took off my boxers releasing my 7 inches from its cloth prison. He starred at it for a few seconds before leaning over and drawing it into his mouth. Inexperienced as Pat was, I had to tell him how to avoid scraping my cock with his teeth by covering them with his lips. However, once he got into it, he was quite good. Good enough to bring me to the edge in short order. "Pat, if you don't want to have a mouthful of cum, you'd better back off now." "Mmmph" was all the answer that I got. "Pat," I said. "this is the last warning you're going to get! OH PAT! HERE IT CUMS! OHHHHHHHH!" It was one of the most powerful orgasms I can remember having and Pat took it all and swallowed. When he was finished licking me clean, he snuggled up to me and laid his head on my chest. "Well?" I asked. "Did you like it?" "I loved it. Although I didn't expect so much cum. I hope you won't think I'm not serious, but I think I love you." "Are you sure? I mean, you're still young and I don't want to have you hurt over what might just be an infatuation for you." Tears began to form in his eyes as he replied, "I'm sure." "OK, what about this?" I looked at the clock: 9:45. "It's just about ten. What do you say we get together tomorrow afternoon? I'll take the afternoon off and we'll meet in the park around 2:00. All right?" "All right." He walked towards the door with his head down. "Pat?" "Yeah, what?" came the sullen reply. "I think I may be in love with you too." That brought an immediate smile to his face as he walked out the door. I had a lot of thinking to do. If we did love each other, it was possible that we wouldn't have too much time together depending on what his parents did. I didn't want him to get hurt if his folks decided that the family should leave Arkansas. If his family did leave, there was not much chance I'd be able to follow. I suppose it might come down to how committed the Thompsons were to following Reverend Erickson around. Especially since I didn't believe that Erickson would stay around in what he was sure to see as an unholy situation. Perhaps some solution could be found which would allow Pat to stay here. I fell asleep thinking what that would be like. I went to work the next morning feeling nervous about the afternoon. The Mayor agreed to give me the afternoon off as a reward for working so hard the previous five weeks. Even though it was what I wanted, the granting of the time off actually increased my nervousness. I was feeling very frazzled when the phone in my office rang around 10. "Hello!" I snapped. "Is Tim Johnson there?" inquired a female voice. "Speaking. What can I do for you?" "This is Leah Thompson, Pat's mother. Would you please come over right away?" This didn't sound good. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Thompson? Is Pat alright?" "Just get over here right now!" she said as she slammed down the phone. I was now in a state of semi-panic. What was going on? Her demand for my presence without answering my query about Pat seemed to indicate that he was alright physically. That probably meant that something had slipped during Pat's recital of what he did at my apartment. I hobbled out the door as fast as I could leaning on my cane. I told the secretary that I had to leave because of an emergency and didn't stop to give an explanation. I hopped into my car and drove over to the Thompson house without any incident. As I raised my hand to knock on the door, an older man opened the door. "Get in here, you demon!" This was not starting out well. I went into the family room and noticed that Pat was sitting on the couch, quietly crying. I moved to join him on the couch but was told to sit elsewhere. I sat down on a side chair opposite Pat. "How are you doing Pat? Is everything OK?" "My son is not to talk to you! You were summoned here to explain yourself!" the old man, who I assumed to be Pat's father, shouted at me. "What did you do to my son? He was a loving obedient son before you got your hooks into him! Now he says that he is gay, that he loves you and is not going to leave you! What sorcery, what drugs did you use? What filth did you pour into his mind?" "He did nothing to me! I've always been this way!" Pat sobbed. His outburst netted Pat a hard backhanded slap to the face. "You are to remain quiet!! Do you understand?" "Hey! Leave him alone! He's done nothing wrong!" I shouted. "I didn't do anything other than provide somebody he could talk to. Somebody who would be understanding of what he was going through. Yes, I'm gay; but we didn't do anything either of us should be ashamed of. As far as his loving me goes, well, I return that love ten-fold. I can't think of anyone who deserves that love more." "Demon!" Mr. Thompson hissed. "You will rot in hell as sure as Jesus Christ was the Son of God, but you will not drag my son down to hell with you! I swear it on the Holy Bible!" "What happened to the God of the New Testament? Didn't Jesus say to 'Love thy neighbor as thy self' and 'Love thy enemy?' Only two verses in the Bible refer to homosexuality. If you followed the Bible as you say you do you'd be living in the Middle Ages! Most of modern life can be said to be in violation of the Bible if you interpret it to the letter. "Leave Pat to make his own choices. And have confidence in him." I turned to Pat, "Pat, call me when you can. You know where to get me if you need me. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I wish that I could say that it was nice to meet Pat's parents, but I'll settle for saying good-bye." With that I rose uneasily from the chair and walked to the door, leaning heavily on my cane. "Wait! I'll get the door for you," Pat shouted after me. Before his parents could react, Pat had jumped up and run to the door and opened it. "I love you and I don't want to leave you." "Don't worry Pat. Just meet me in the park as we originally planned and we'll talk some more." I left the Thompson house hoping that I'd done the right thing in not staying. The reason that I had felt that I had to leave was the feeling that if I had stayed, Pat would end up taking the brunt of his father's anger when I finally did leave. And there was no question in my mind that the scene would have gotten much uglier if I had stayed. I went back to my apartment and nervously puttered around until quarter to one, when I began my walk to the park. Arriving there, I saw that some of the guys who were normally there shooting around. But no Pat. I checked my watch. Five minutes to. I was early. I waited for him to show. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen and still no Pat. When twenty minutes had passed and Pat had still not appeared, I asked the boys if they had heard from or seen Pat. A boy, who identified himself as Brian, told me that Pat had stopped by earlier carrying a gymbag and with a backpack on his shoulder. Pat had said that if somebody asked for him, that he would be down at the Jorgenson's restaurant. I walked back to my apartment to get my car and headed over to the restaurant. I walked into the restaurant. I noticed Daniel Jorgenson walking around the room, helping out bussing the tables. "Daniel, have you seen Pat Thompson?" I asked. "Yes, he's in the corner booth in back. Is something wrong? He looked like he had been crying recently." "Shit. I hope nothing more is wrong. He had gotten into an argument with his father earlier today." I gave Daniel a very brief summary of what had gone on. "What happened after I left?" "I don't know, but it doesn't look good. Can I help with anything?" "Not right now, Daniel. First, I want to find out what's going on myself. But I'll call you if we need help. Will you be here for a while?" "Yes, I'll be here." Leaving Daniel to continue what he had been doing, I walked towards the back of the restaurant. In the corner booth sat the boy, no young man I had fallen in love with. His gymbag and backpack sat on the bench next to him. His eyes were red from crying. My anger at what his parents may of done rose as my imagination went wild. I sat down across from him. "Pat, what's wrong?" All I got in return was sobs. "Pat, please tell me what's wrong. I want to help, but I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong." He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. "I've been thrown out of my home." "What happened after I left?" "My parents took turns screaming at me for about an hour," he said between sobs. "I wasn't allowed to say much. Finally, my father asked whether I was going to give up this 'silly and dangerous' choice I had made to follow the Word of God. When I replied that I couldn't give up what I knew to be right for me, he told me that I would have it beaten out of me. "I was told to strip to my underwear and stand facing the wall. He took off his belt and wrapped the buckle end around his hand, leaving about a two feet swinging free. He then proceeded to whip me with his belt, landing fifteen blows on my back and butt. The question was then repeated as to whether I would obey his demand that I desist from the path I was going down. I refused, saying that I could not change what I was. "My father shouted that I could not possibly be his son and that I was to leave the house as I obviously didn't belong there. I was given twenty minutes to get my belongings together and get out. I made it out of the house and down to the park where I told the guys that I couldn't play. I told them where I would be and to tell you to find me there. I made my way to a bench in the park where what had happened in the previous couple of hours finally hit me and I cried. "I sat there for sometime. Eventually I stopped crying, got up and came here. I told Daniel that I wanted to sit in an out of the way booth. He told me to sit here and asked if he could help me with anything. I told him no, but that if someone came looking for me, to tell them where I was." As he finished, Pat began to sob once more. I scooted over and wrapped my arms around him, holding him close. "Let it out, Pat. Just go with it. I'm here for you and will never leave you." He looked up at me, tears still falling from his eyes. Those deep blue eyes were so full of love and trust that my heart almost broke. A clearing throat brought us both back to the real world. A young waiter stood next to the table. "Daniel sent me over. Did either of you want anything?" I looked at Pat, and then back at our waiter. "A Pepsi for Pat, and I'll have a Diet Pepsi. Thanks." "No problem. I'll be back in a minute." I returned to looking at Pat. "Well what should we do now? Did you want to go back to my apartment, or is there somewhere else you'd rather go?" He was silent for several minutes, as if he was thinking it through. He wiped his eyes with the napkin on the table, sniffled once, then turned to look me in the eye. "Could we go back to your apartment? Please?" "Sure. Let's finish our sodas first though." With that, the waiter set our sodas on the table. We sat drinking our sodas quietly. As soon as we finished, we got up and left. I told the waiter to pass along my thanks to Daniel. Pat put his gymbag and his backpack in the back seat of the car. I got in and started it up as he buckled up. "We have some talking to do. My apartment only has one bedroom and one bathroom. Now of course, the fact is that it wouldn't be a problem with only one bed, but I'm not that old that I don't remember what it is to be a teenager in the morning." This brought a laugh from Pat. "I'm glad that you can still laugh," I said as I reached over and mussed up his hair. Pat practically ran the 100 yard dash when we reached my apartment. By the time I had worked my way up the stairs, he had already emptied his bags and was starting to look for places to put his things! He had definitely recovered his energy from earlier. "Pat?" "Huh?" "Did you want me to take a look at your back? I want to make sure its OK." He popped his head out the bedroom door. "If you think it should be looked at, OK." "Come here then. Sit down and take off your shirt." He did. "Now face the couch." I took one look at Pat's back and my anger grew at his parents. That anger increased further when I ran my fingers over his back. Each time my fingers ran over a welt from the belt whipping, Pat tensed up and grimaced. "Pat, stay right here. I'm going to get some lotion to kind of sooth your back." I rubbed his back with the skin lotion to the accompaniment of "Ooohs!" and "Aaahs!" This, plus the fact that I just loved even touching his bare skin, led to a growing bulge in my pants. I had to control myself! As much as my body wanted to, my mind told me that it would be wrong to take advantage of the situation. Pat, however, had other ideas. As I finished rubbing in the lotion, he turned around, grabbed my head and planted his lips on mine. Man, oh man. His tongue quickly forced its way past my lips and deep into my mouth. I was so startled that it took me a couple of minutes to respond. When I did respond, my tongue found its way into his mouth. My hands worked their way down his chest and stomach on the way to his jeans. My right hand tried undoing his jeans, while my left massaged the big bulge it found. His moans let me know that he was enjoying it. I broke off the kiss long enough to suggest that this be continued in a more comfortable place, namely the bedroom. He sighed and agreed. We both got up and walked, or hobbled in my case, as my knee had gotten stiff to the bedroom. On his way there, he stripped off his shoe, socks, pants, and underwear, as if to leave me a trail to follow. I joined him in the bedroom to find what I believed then, and continue to believe now, was one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Pat's nude body including a very hard and long six inches of boy meat that was on a level almost parallel to his stomach. I smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. I began to unbutton my shirt, but was stopped by Pat. "Please, Tim. I want to do this for you." "Sure. If you want, go ahead." He proceeded to unbutton my shirt, slowly undoing each button. When he had finished, he pulled the shirt off my shoulders and began to lick his way down from my neck. Slowly, ever so slowly, his tongue and lips licked and sucked their way across my chest, stopping for awhile at my nipples. He sucked on them long enough for his hands to reach down and undo my pants, thereby releasing my own hard cock. He stopped his sucking long enough to take my pants and underwear off along with my shoes and socks. I pushed him away and scooted further onto the bed. I then took him into my arms and pulled him down on top of me. We kissed long and hard all the while grinding our crotches into each others. As horny as we both were, I was surprised that nobody came. Coming up for air, I asked Pat, "Pat, you can say no if you want to, but I want to fuck your cute little ass." He hesitated then said, "OK. But please be gentle. I've never done this before." "I'll go very slowly. It will probably hurt at first, but the pain will go away and you'll feel as if it never was anything but pleasurable. In fact, I'll loosen you up a bit first." I reached into my night stand and got a tube of KY jelly out. Spreading some on my index finger, I told Pat to lay on his back and pull his knees up to his chest. That done, I got my first look at Pat's asshole. It seemed so small and pink that I hesitated to continue. But I knew that as small as it looked, his hole would be able to take cock. Hell, I had seen mine before and it looked about the same size at one point in college before I had been fucked. I took my lubed-up finger and rubbed it around his hole in slowly contracting circles before I slowly began to insert it into Pat. The first penetration brought an "Oh!" from him. Soon I had my finger in up to the first knuckle and began gently to stretch his hole, moving the finger in and out until it was in as far as the hand. I added a second finger and repeated the process. And then, a third. At this point, Pat practically begged me to fuck him. I removed my fingers, rubbed some lube on my cock and lined it up with his hole. It was somewhat awkward, as my left knee was still stiff and uncomfortable. But it was worth it! My cock sank slowly into Pat's willing body. As I had told him, it hurt a little at the beginning, but my young love was soon thrusting back at me every time I thrust my cock into him. I began to speed up my thrusts as I came closer to cumming. Pat wrapped his legs around my waist just as I felt the orgasm begin to hit. "OH, PAT! HERE IT CUMS! I'M GOING TO FILL YOU UP! OHHHHH, GOD! I'M CUMMMMMIINNNG! AAAARGHH!!!" I felt like I pumped at least a quart into him. At the same time, having had his prostate repeatedly rubbed by my cock, Pat began to orgasm as well. "OH, TIM! I WANT YOU TO CUM IN ME! FUCK ME HARD AND MAKE ME CUM! OH! OH! OH! I'M GOING TO CUM! I'M ... GOING ... TO ...CUMMMMMMMMM! I'M CUMMMMMIIIINNGG!" With that, his cock shot cum in a high arc that landed on his forehead. His second shot landed on his lips, the third on his chest, with successive shots working their way down his body towards his crotch. I pulled out of his ass and flattened my self on top of him. We kissed gently and for a long time, relishing the orgasms that we had given each other. We finally fell asleep. I awoke to the sound of a toilet flushing. Obviously, Pat was up before me. I looked over at the bathroom door in time to see him walk back into the room. The sight was one I hoped I would always see when I woke up; Pat, nude, walking back to bed, cock swaying back and forth like as metronome. "Hi ya sleepyhead." "Hi yourself, sexy. Are you hungry?" "Starving. What do you have to eat in this place?" "Just the usual bachelor's fare." "In other words, whatever's cheap and not very nutritious." "Well, I wouldn't go that far. But what did you want and we take it from there." "How about some steaks and baked potatoes?" "I think that I can manage that. I was saving the steaks for a special event. This certainly qualifies," I said, picking up my boxers and putting them on. I looked over at Pat, whose eyes had begun to water again. "What's the matter, Pat?" "I'm just happy that someone would consider having dinner with me to be a special event. After this afternoon ..." Tears started down his face again. I reached over and pulled him into my embrace. "Pat, Pat. Don't ever think that you are not special. You are certainly special to me. I love you so much that it would tear me apart if something happened to you. I want you to stay with me for as long as you want. I will never kick you out of our home. Do you understand me?" "Do you really mean that? I can stay with you?" "Yes, you can. We'll manage to work things out, even if that means finding a new place to live." "Why would it mean finding a new place to live?" "For one thing, there really isn't much space for two people to have all their stuff. Also, while I have no intention of kicking you out of my bed, I think you should have the option of sleeping in your own bed. You should have some space in which to do your schoolwork without being interrupted. What's the smile for?" "There's a rumor among some of the students that the school may be shut down if too many students pull out. I know that my dad was going to pull out us kids from school as soon as Reverend Erickson determines where his followers will settle. The other thing is that a lot of boys have been coming into town and none of them give any indication of enrolling in school." "I guess I'll just have to home school you if necessary. I'll climb that hill when we get to it." "Tim, if you'll let me, I'd like to see if I could find a job; it's the least I can do to help with the expenses." "I appreciate the offer Pat, but let's wait until the school's closed before we explore that option." The next few days were tough for Pat. Rumors about what happened at the Thompson house had begun to circulate around the school. The fact that none of his siblings acknowledged his existence when they passed in school didn't help matters. Daniel Jorgenson would talk to Pat whenever he had the opportunity, but few others would follow Daniel's lead. Finally, ten days after the vote, amid declining attendance, the School Board announced that, until further notice, the schools were closing. To say that Pat felt more than a little relief at the news would be an understatement. I didn't know how to proceed at this point. It is true that I told him that if the schools closed, I would home school him. I just hoped that his natural intelligence would come to the fore and he wouldn't have to rely too much on me for a formal education. His sexual education was something that I felt I could handle, however. Almost every night, we made love at least once before going to sleep. He learned how to make love not just going through the motions of having sex. Usually we would both strip down and engage in a long and deep kiss. A blow job or 69 would follow. If he wanted to, he would fuck me; or not. The first time he fucked me was memorable. Pat had finished his homework and had indicated the he wanted to go to our bedroom and cuddle. One thing led to another, and intended or not, we got naked. I held him in my arms for sometime before he made a move. Pat leaned back so that he put me on my back, rolled over and kissed me. While he was kissing me, I felt both our cocks harden. He began a humping motion that threatened to send us both over the edge in a short. I decided that I did not want him to waste his cum. "Pat, I want, no I need you to fuck me." "Are you sure? I've never fucked anybody before." "Then, I'll be ecstatic to be your first." I asked him whether he wanted me on my hands and knees or on my back. He replied that he wanted to see my face so that he would know if he was hurting me. I told him that he wouldn't hurt me, as he would not be the first to fuck me. He brought my legs over his shoulders. "Tim, I'm nervous about this." "I told you that you can't hurt me. In fact, I'll probably enjoy it as much or more than you will. I wasn't kidding when I said I needed you. I love you more than anything on earth and want you to be happy! Just do it!" He lined his hardened cock up on my asshole, pushed the head up against the hole, then applied more pressure to get past the sphincter. As though he expected to cause me some discomfort, Pat very slowly sank his 6" into my butt. "Well, that certainly took long enough." "I didn't want to hurt you." "Do I look like I'm in pain? If this is supposed to be pain, I would hate to think what pleasure would be like." "OK, then. Here goes!" He began to work his cock in and out of my ass, slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed as teenage lust overtook him. Very soon, Pat was going into overdrive. "Oh God! OHHHHH! AAAHHH! I GO-ING TO CUMMMMM! OOOOHH! HERE IT CUMS, TIM! I'M C-C-CUMMMING! AARGH!" With those words, I felt his cock begin to fill my ass with his hot cum. It rapidly approached the point where I thought that he was going fill me up to overflowing; but I was lucky. Needless to say my prostate was getting worked on with every thrust by Pat. No sooner had he begun to cum then I passed the point of no return. Cum soaked my chest and stomach. Pat pulled out of me with a "plop!" and collapsed on top of me. He looked up at me. "That was great! I've never felt like that before! Was it as good for you?" "Yes, it was. Anything I do with you is great. I know that I've said this before, but I love you with all my heart." I emphasized my feelings with a wet, sloppy kiss.