From: FCPHAW@news.delphi.com (FCPHAW@DELPHI.COM) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FCP: The Boy Asleep (m/b poem) Date: 3 Aug 1995 21:26:34 -0400 FAN CHA PHAW PRESENTS: The Boy Asleep A Poem The Boy Asleep By the time I was finally ready for bed He was asleep. He lay on his back With one thin arm on the pillow Beside his head Turned to one side. The dark hair spilling Over the white fabric. Closed lids And fans of dark lashes Hid those eyes so young So deep. Wet with tears Or sparkling with excitement, His eyes never failed to hold me. "What are you looking at?" He would often ask. "At you," I would answer, And when circumstances allowed I would kiss him gently And add, "Because I love you." I dropped my robe on the chair And slipped in beside him Naked As he was. Warm enough in the summer evening When the two of us slept Together. On my side facing him I bent to kiss the gently curled fingers Of his small hand. They smelled of him And soap And toothpaste. I kissed his forehead and cheek, Paused at his parted lips To smell the sweet breath Coming from deep within him With a barely audible shush. I touched his lips with my tongue. I kissed the shoulder And the fragile chest. I turned my head Gently pressing my ear against him Listening for a long time To his heartbeat and breathing. Marveling at the wonder of this living thing, This boy I love. I felt powerful Protective and dutybound. He lay defenseless Trusting me Needing me To see him safely through to the morning. I gently drew the sheet down And kissed his soft belly. Here earlier that evening While roughhousing I had tickled him And scratched him With my stubbly chin Until he called uncle. Then with enough resistance To make him feel strong I had allowed him to roll me over And sit on my chest. He had pinned my arms down Growling like a bear in my face, Biting my nose. Both of us laughing He had let go of my arms And run his hands Over my cheeks And chin. We talked about beards And things that make a man a man. He had decided That he would prefer To remain a boy. I pulled the sheet Down to his thighs Admiring his perfection. Such emotion So much of his identity Tied up with this Two inch bit of flesh And velvet covered jelly beans. So jealously guarded, So carefully hidden, Spending the day Nestled in cotton shorts. He would turn away From anyone who might see him In a public washroom. Once, When he had an urgent need On a car trip I stopped by a pasture. He had gone a full hundred yards To find a bush to hide behind. I bent my head And touched it with my lips. The skin was cool And smelled of soap. We were no strangers This part of him And I. It stiffened slightly And pulsed, I felt a rush of heat. I released it And it stood away from his pale belly. I wondered how long Before we would see the first pearly drops. I longed to be there then To be the first to taste them. We had actually discussed it once And he had promised They were mine alone. What more precious gift could he give? I lay back down Pulling up the sheet. I placed my head beside the small hand Took it in my own and kissed it again. He stirred Moaned And gripped my fingers. His eyes opened, Saw me, And closed again. He rolled towards me And placed his other hand On my chest. We slept Dreaming Of other perfect days. --CC