Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.
This is a story about the love between a twelve-year-old boy and a twenty-seven-year-old man and it contains graphic details of sexual contact between them. If you are under age and if this is illegal where you live or where you're accessing this site, then I suggest you leave immediately. For those who wish to stay, then this story is a long one of sixteen parts and an epilogue, which deals with a relationship rather than a brief and sexually stimulating read, although there are parts when the sexuality of the liaison is paramount to the story and I've done my best to leave nothing out.
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Boys can be lovers, too.
Friday. Our last full day. We were sitting on the harbour wall at Padstow, eating Cornish ice creams. Since we'd arrived, Janice and Henry had been particularly close. Matthew often strayed to them, to create a trio of closeness. When he did, I kept my distance. Some things were not mine to share: that was one of them. Once upon a time, Henry and Janice had stayed here, and created the beautiful creature who was to become my true love. This day, perversely, was the last they would spend together as an isolated family unit. I was the outsider responsible for that.
We took a trip in a large boat out into the harbour, and also two speedboat trips before the tide turned and the trips stopped because of low tide. Lunch; and we ate at a small restaurant away from the main tourist area. It was cosy. The seafood was good, but we didn't have oysters. Matthew tried to get me to have some, but I refused on the grounds that they didn't work on me.
We all laughed at Matthew's cheeky remark. "Don't I just know it!"
There was no answer to that without revealing the sexual side of our relationship, and I was far too shy to do that. Instead, I gave him a withering stare. He just grinned. After we'd eaten, Henry called the waiter and ordered a bottle of Champagne, and four glasses. I was surprised. Perhaps he was about to celebrate our holiday together? Whatever, the Champagne and glasses arrived, and were filled. Henry said he had an important family announcement to make. I was even more puzzled now, and sat back and waited. Matthew was strangely silent. Janice put a hand on her husband's leg.
The love in Henry's eyes was obvious, as he looked at Matthew. "Mum and I thought this was the appropriate place to tell you something. Padstow seems to be the place that things happen for the Lloyds. You were made here, and now I want to tell you that another little Lloyd is on the way. Your mother is two months pregnant. We're going to have another baby."
I was absolutely shocked. Matthew giggled. His giggle surprised me. I think it surprised Henry, too, because he asked Matthew why he was giggling.
"I'm giggling at you dad. I didn't think you had it in you."
I couldn't stop myself, and burst out laughing. The laughing became contagious, and it took a while before we all controlled ourselves. Then I raised my glass, and looked at Janice and Henry. "Congratulations to you both." I turned to Matthew. "And you. I'm sure your little brother, or sister, is going to be as wonderful a person as you are."
I could see Matthew was moved by my words, but now his affections had to be towards his mother and father. He got off his chair, went to them, put his arms around their shoulders, and hugged and kissed them. "This is one of the most beautiful days of my life. I've always wanted a brother or a sister." He reached across the table, and got his glass. "To the new Baby Lloyd."
We all toasted, `The new Baby Lloyd'.
Matthew returned to his seat and it was all questions and fussing over Janice. When was the baby due? February. Was it a boy or a girl? They didn't know yet. We finished the Champagne, Henry settled the bill, and we walked out of the restaurant into the bright sunshine, knowing the revelation that Janice was pregnant was going to change all our lives.
When we were outside, Janice left Henry, and came to me. Matthew looked at his mother, and got a finger message to leave me alone with her. He didn't argue, and walked off to his father in front of us. Janice linked my arm, and we walked a short way together, before she spoke.
"Dean, although I'm having a new baby, I'm also losing one. You will take care of him for me, won't you?"
I turned my head, looked into her beautiful eyes, and received the same sort of look I got from her son. At that moment, I was absolutely certain that in different circumstances, she and I would have become an item. It was impossible for me not to say anything. "Janice, Matthew is so like you, that it's almost as if you're one. So much of what he is, is you. I think you share the same soul."
Janice squeezed my arm. "We do. That's why I know what he sees in you. You're a very beautiful person; inside and out. It's why I'm so comfortable he's with you. It's also how I know that when he stops being a boy, you'll still be together. I think I understand you better than you understand yourself. You will part one day, but it will be circumstances of life that bring it about, and not because you've stopped loving him, because he's no longer a boy. Although Matthew displays all the outward signs that he's a boy, and will become a very male person to those who don't understand him, inside, he's a woman. Inside, he's me. That's how I know these things. Its how I know, that no matter what happens, you'll always love each other."
I was almost in tears. "I could easily fall in love with you."
Janice smiled. "I know. But you've got my son, and he's the next best thing. Take care of him for me."
"I will. I promise." Then an amusing thought came into my mind. "Whatever you do, Janice, please don't have another Matthew. I couldn't cope with that."
Janice laughed, and her eyes twinkled. "Don't worry about that, and don't tell those two our little secret: it's a girl." She winked. "We women know these things."
Now, I was laughing. "I promise, but if she's exactly like you, then what would you say if I were to arrange a marriage to her now?"
She gave me one of Matthew's devilish grins. "I'm not having my daughter marry someone three times as old as her. It's bad enough that my son has chosen someone more than twice as old as he is."
We were still chuckling when we joined the others, and wandered along the harbour, looking into the many souvenir shops, and we even peeked in the baby shops. Then we decided to split up for a while; Henry and Janice doing their thing, and Matthew and I doing ours, and we'd meet up by the sea-shell shop in an hour.
We'd been parted just a few moments when Matthew tightened his arms on mine. "Dean, can we play a game?"
I looked at him, and saw the devilment in his eyes. "What trouble are you getting us into now?"
He laughed. "There's loads of people here. Let's tell each other who we would go to bed with if we were single. I'll tell you who I fancy, and you tell me who you fancy."
I laughed. "You make it sound as if we're married. Anyway, sod off you kinky little bugger."
Matthew looked up with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You're the bugger here, not me. Not that I'm complaining at the number of times you've buggered me this last two weeks. How about that boy over there, sitting on the wall, the one who is looking at us, the blond haired one with the green shorts and long legs and no shirt on? I'll bet he'd be great in bed. How old is he, about fourteen? He'd think it was his birthday if you put William in him."
I was giggling now. "You disgusting little sod! He probably likes you more than he does me."
Matthew snorted. "Rubbish!" Just as Matthew said that, the boy looked straight at me, and sort of smiled. I wasn't sure Matthew had seen the smile, until he steered us to the harbour wall, and made us sit down just a few yards from the boy. "See, he smiled at you. He likes you."
I looked at Matthew, who had a smile on his face. "Why are we sitting down?"
Matthew's smile widened. "I want to take your photograph."
I knew he was lying. He stepped back, and took a couple of pictures of me. Then he turned to the boy, who was watching everything we did, went to him, and sat beside him. They chatted for a long time, and then both came back to where I was sitting. Matthew showed him how to work the camera, sat beside me, and lifted my arm so it was around his shoulders, wrapped an arm around my waist, and laid his head on my shoulder. I let my head rest on his. The boy took two snaps of us, and then came to me, and gave me the camera. We looked into each other's eyes, and I was moved by the sparkling beauty of his. I was about to put the camera in its holder, when Matthew stopped me.
"No, take a picture of me, and David. Then I'll take a couple of you, and David. David lives here. We're friends, aren't we, David?"
David grinned, and nodded. I was astonished, but I complied. They put their arms around each other's shoulders, as if they'd been mates all their lives, which I thought was pretty amazing, and I took a picture of them. Then it was my turn to have my picture taken with David. I was sort of standoffish, but Matthew refused to take the picture until we were closer. As we sat together, David's leg was against mine, and I could feel the softness and warmth of him. Matthew made David link my arm, and rest his head on my shoulder. This was unreal, but it was happening, and I knew then how little I understood about psychology. But Matthew did. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was his father's child. Then Matthew got a passer-by to take a picture of all three of us.
We left David sitting on the wall. As we walked away, I looked back. David stared at me, and gave me a wistful smile. I waved, and gave him one in return.
Matthew grinned, and looked up at me. "Did he give you a smile?"
"Yes. How did you do all that? You didn't know the boy."
"I saw it in his eyes, the moment he looked at you. He wanted you. I decided to give him just a bit of you to take to bed tonight, and I'll send him one of the pictures when we get home."
"But you don't know where he lives."
"Of course I do. I got his details from him." Matthew recited David's name and address.
"I'm amazed. I really am. You're something else. You should take up psychology."
"Of course I'm going to take up psychology. What did you think I was going to be, a bus driver? You liked him, didn't you?"
"He was ok."
Matthew gurgled at my reply. "Sod off! If you hadn't met me, and you'd come here and met David, and he'd told you he wanted sex with you, you would have done him. And don't tell me you wouldn't."
He was right. Perhaps a little above my age of attraction, but David was a cute and sexy boy with gorgeous blue eyes and long lashes. I grinned. "So?"
"You've got good taste, my special lover. Maybe I should invite David to our house when we get home, and we can have a menage a trois?"
I laughed. "Wouldn't you be jealous of me having sex with another boy?"
"No. Not in David's case. I think I'd like to have sex with him too. He is special. Would that make you jealous?"
I had to think about that one. "No, I don't think it would."
"He's a boy, and not a man."
Matthew seemed satisfied with my answer, and went off at a tangent. "Describe how you felt when you were sitting with him."
I gave him a look that said I wasn't sure whether I should answer or not. "Why do you want to know?"
Matthew diverted to a public bench, pulled me down onto it, and linked my arm. In front of us was the busy harbour, and hundreds of tourists milling about. He didn't seem to care about any of it when he spoke. "I want to know more about men who love boys. I need to understand you better. Understanding each other is important to both of us."
I took a while before answering him, and decided this was one of those times when an honest answer was the best thing. Matthew would know if I wasn't telling the whole truth. "It was just nice. His leg was warm, and soft, and just being in close proximity of a lovely looking boy is, sort of...well, just nice. Boys are special. Well, some boys are. They're something that's beautiful, curvaceous, unsullied by adulthood, which tends to make humans less nice."
"Tell me about the certain type of boy you like."
I shrugged my shoulders, and grinned at him. "Just look at yourself, and you've got the answer."
Matthew didn't smile at my comment, and remained serious. "Deeper. I want you to go deeper. No more facile comments please."
"I wasn't being facile, I was being honest. Everything I've ever wanted in a boy, you've got it. You're curvy, you're soft in all the right places, you're extremely handsome, you're about the right size, the right age, you're vivacious, but most of all, you've got one thing that's indefinable...you're sexy."
Matthew looked up at me. "I know all that. What I'm getting at, is that all those things could be attributed to a beautiful young woman. So, what's the difference?"
I had to think about that one. "It's simple. It's that indefinable thing, I don't find women...sexy. I suppose it's a perversion of nature, but if I'm a pervert, then so be it. I am what I am."
Matthew nodded. "Ok. I understand a bit better now. You're a pervert like I am, but a different kind of pervert."
His word's hurt me, and I couldn't quite keep the anger out of my voice. "You're not a pervert like I am. Your perversion is simple compared to mine. Your male/female balance is wrong."
Matthew didn't take umbrage at my ire, and his voice was soft, when he replied. "Actually, Dean, you're wrong. When you think about it, you're nearly a proper man, that's if a proper man is a man who loves soft curves in all the right places. A boy's body is very similar to a young woman's, and young women are the most desirable sex partner for a man. What sets you apart from proper men, is that you don't like your goods to be sullied. Adults are sullied by life. When one thinks about it, you're the most normal of all of us perverts."
I was surprised by his words. "How am I?"
"Because had you had a proper mother, I reckon you would have been normal, and loved women, rather than boys."
This was surreal. I was sitting with a twelve-year-old, and he was saying things I'd chewed over all my life. I wanted to know more about what was in Matthew's head. "Did your dad tell you that?"
Matthew looked at me, and there was sadness in his eyes. "No. I worked it out myself. Your mother gave you away when you were still very young. That must have left a mental scar. It would me. Why should you be different? I know you've got a great deal of affection for your foster parents, but no foster mother can give you real mother-love. It's special. You might ask that if that's the case, then why is it that I'm gay? It's as you said, simple. My hormones are wrong. Mine is physical, and yours is psychological, and the depth of the psychological hurt determines how much chance you have of becoming normal. In your case, despite you telling me that your foster parents gave you lots of love, the depth of your hurt, is almost permanent. So, the equation is this: a woman has hurt you, so you don't like women. Boys, being the closest thing to women, and they've never hurt you, equals a substitute woman." Matthew looked at me with a sort of far away stare. "That's my theory. I could be wrong. Your problem, and mine, could be genetic, but maybe the boffins will determine that in the future."
I was impressed, but I had a counter-argument. "Ok, if we accept what you say is true, then why do some men do such terrible things to children, including small babies? That would blow your theory out of the window. They don't all do it because they had bad parents, do they?"
Matthew was vacantly staring across the street. "No. I was talking about your specific case. Those are paedophiles: proper paedophiles. They exist in men and women, and their problem is probably genetic. You're not like them, Dean." Matthew looked at me, and I could see the love in his eyes. "Trust me, you're not. You're a boy-lover, and not a paedophile."
I was about to argue some more, but decided against it. Instead, I decided this was the right time to go into Matthew's sexual preferences. I still couldn't understand what a boy saw in a grown man. "And what about you? I'm perplexed that someone as young and beautiful as you can want to have sex with an antique. Why don't you fancy boys your own age?"
Matthew grinned. "Who says I don't? I'd have sex with David now if I hadn't met you, and he wanted it with me."
I giggled. "I know you would. You're a kinky sod, but that still doesn't answer my first question. I have an age of attraction, and it's roughly about your age, but you fancy any fucker."
Matthew laughed. "No I don't. I reckon I can have sex with anyone from David's age, to about thirty-five, and when I'm older, I'll be a normal homosexual, and have sex with men that I'm attracted to. But I'm a bit of a paradox. Liking older boys or men is only part of the equation. The paradoxical bit, is that I like my lovers to worship my body, and to dominate me, but at the same time, I need to control them. That's why I don't bother with boys much. They're usually wimps."
"You call me a wuss."
"That's because I haven't trained you properly...yet. I'm going to buy you a whip when we get home."
I laughed a deep belly laugh. "You've got no chance. The closest I'll get to hurting you is pinching your arse."
Matthew gave me one of his evil grins. "Is that a promise?"
We both laughed, and then Matthew's head went down, and his voice was flaky when he spoke again. "I wish I was a woman."
Matthew lifted his head, and looked me in the eyes. "Because I'd marry you tomorrow, if you'd have me. Would you?"
Although he was hiding it well, I sensed the sorrow in Matthew's face. I could see Janice in him, and I knew the answer I would give was the truth. "Yes, I would, and that's the truth."
Matthew smiled. "I know it is. You can see mum in me, can't you?"
I was flabbergasted. There was no way I would ever be able to pull to wool over this little boy's eyes. I nodded. "Yes."
Matthew's mood changed in an instant. He got up, and pulled me to my feet. "Come on, let's go and get married."
I burst out laughing. "You silly boy!"
Matthew's eyes were sparkling. "You've got that wrong. I'm a silly girl, but we're still going to get married, and I know just the place to do it."
Matthew took hold of my hand, and began to drag me along. Soon, still holding hands, we were running, and laughing, as we dodged the milling crowds. What they were thinking, I didn't know, but neither did I care anymore. My boy was ecstatically happy, and I would do whatever he wanted. Around the harbour we ran, and along the short stretch of uncovered sand, until the tidal flow of the estuary stopped us. We were both breathless, and still laughing. There were a few people about, and this wasn't private enough for Matthew, so he pulled me into the water, and dragged me along the edge of the rocks, and we waded, knee deep, until we came to a place where we could climb out (a flat slate protrusion) and be alone, and out of sight of anyone.
I was perplexed. "What now, silly girl?"
Matthew composed himself, and gripped my hands tightly. "Look into my eyes, and repeat after me. I, Dean Sorrenson, swear that I love Matthew Lloyd more than anyone on earth, and that from this time on, I will be married to him, and to no other."
Under different circumstances, I would have cried with laughter, but I knew this was a solemn moment for us both: especially to Matthew. I squeezed his hands. "I, Dean Sorrenson, swear that I love Matthew Lloyd more than anyone on earth, and that from this time on, I will be married to him, and to no other."
Matthew's eyes were blazing. "I, Matthew Lloyd, swear that I love Dean Sorrenson more than anyone on earth, and that from this time on, I will be married to him, and to no other. Now kiss me."
I took him into my arms, and he locked his own around my neck, and we kissed, passionately. For a long time, there was just Matthew, and me, and the sea.
We met Henry and Janice by the sea-shell shop, and they asked how we'd got our trainers and socks wet.
Matthew answered immediately. "We got married in the sea."
I was dumbstruck, and I expected Matthew's parents to laugh. But they didn't. They must have sensed the gravity in his words. Instead, he went to them, and all three joined in a hug. Henry looked at me while they were together, and nodded. Once again, this family amazed me. The nod was one of acceptance. Not another word was said as they broke the hug, nor even when Janice came to me, and gave me one. It was done. I was now, officially, one of the family.
Henry led us to a jeweller's shop, and we stood looking at the wares on display. I thought he was going to buy something for Janice, but I was wrong.
"Choose a ring, boys. I'm going to buy you both one to celebrate this special occasion. Let me do the talking."
I didn't miss the fact that he hadn't said, `marriage'. We were all aware that our state of affairs was a delicate one, and there was no need to make a song and dance about it now. What we had done, was a token act, and every single one of us understood the situation. We went into the shop, and a young man came to serve us.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes," Henry said, "I want two gold bands for my sons. 22 carat gold please."
The shop assistant knew his job. Immediately, he went to the manager, and whispered something to him. Briskly, the manager came to us, and shook all our hands. "Is this a special occasion, Sir?"
Henry turned on the charm. He smiled. "Yes it is. Padstow has always been a special place for my family, and I can think of no better way of making sure my children have something associated with the place: something to join them together in the future."
The manager looked a little relieved. "Ahhh. I understand, Sir. Sentimental. That's really nice. Is there anything the young men have seen, that takes their fancy?"
Matthew spoke. "Could we have a look at some plain gold bands, please? Not too wide."
"Of course. Let me show you some. Unfortunately, we don't carry an extensive stock of 22 carat, but we keep a wider range of 18 carat. Here we are."
He unlocked the glass doors, pulled out seven trays of gold rings, and placed them on the top of a low, glass display cabinet in the centre of the shop. "Would you like me to leave you while you choose?"
"Yes, please," said Henry. "I'll give you a shout if we find what we want."
The manager backed off, and left us to look at the goods. I looked at the prices. One 22 carat gold ring would have paid my mortgage for six months, and I was hesitant at choosing anything. I needn't have bothered: Matthew and Janice were in charge. I looked at Henry, and he winked. It was a signal telling me to let the `girls' do the choosing. I grinned, and nodded. While we were huddled around the rings, Matthew looked up at me, and grinned. He pointed at the third finger of his left hand, and I understood what he meant. They concentrated on me first. After half a dozen attempts, they decided one was right.
Matthew looked at me. "Do you like it?"
I smiled at him. "Do you like it?"
He nodded. I nodded. It took longer to find one for Matthew. He was a growing boy, and finding one which would fit him for a while before it needed to be expanded, was tricky, especially because he insisted his was exactly the same as mine. He settled on one that fitted his middle finger, perfectly, but was not overly loose on his third finger. Henry told us to take the rings off, and then called the manager. He was delighted we'd found what we wanted; even more so when he knew we'd chosen 22 carat ones. Henry told him to box them and wrap them. Janice and Matthew and became surplus to requirements, and sort of faded into the background, while Henry settled up. It took a phone call to his bank manager to verify his cheque was sound, and then we all left the shop. Henry kept the rings in his pocket, and I wondered what was going to happen with them. Before we left Padstow, Henry insisted I telephone The White Lion, and book a table for dinner.
It was eight o' clock when we sat down for dinner. Janice had insisted we dress properly, so I chose the only decent clothes I had: a pair of blue jeans, and a mid-blue shirt and my best sandals. Matthew was wearing grey slacks and a white shirt. It was the first time I'd seen him in anything other than shorts, and he looked superb. When I first saw him, he grinned, and asked me if I liked him when he was covered up. I told him I preferred him with nothing on. He giggled, and told me he would oblige later.
The seating arrangements were different than usual: Matthew was sitting with his mother, and I was opposite him. It wasn't the best of positions to sit with Matthew. He slipped his sandal off and kept rubbing my leg with his foot for most of the evening. Thank goodness I'd ordered this particular table; one with high-back, settle type seats, and against the wall, which Matthew and I were sitting by. It was about as private a table as you could get in The White Lion. The meal was good, as usual, and after we'd eaten, Henry ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne. The waiter popped the cork, poured four glasses, and then left us. I was nervous as hell.
Matthew sensed it. He smiled, and nodded to me. "It's ok."
I smiled back at him, and nodded. Once again, he was in control of the situation. I was still nervous though, especially when Henry gave one of the ring boxes to Matthew, and Janice gave one to me. Obviously, they had talked about what was to happen, and this was the order of things in the Lloyd family. Matthew opened his box, and took my hand in his, and he slipped the ring onto my finger. Now it was my turn, and when Matthew gave me his hand, I slipped the ring onto his finger. He withdrew his hand, and kissed the ring. I did the same. All the while, we stared into each other's eyes. Matthews were gleaming, and triumphant: mine were just full of love for this beautiful creature who had come into my life, and changed it completely.
Henry picked up his glass and raised it. "To both of you."
We all touched glasses, and celebrated this beautiful, wonderful moment. Once it was done, Henry gave me a cigar, and had one himself. We lit up, and clouds of smoke drifted everywhere. Janice huffed and puffed.
Henry giggled. Then he looked at me. "Now do I get a good price on rewiring those cottages?"
I laughed. "Sorry, it's a golden rule in our business; we never do work for close family."
As Henry and I laughed and laughed, Matthew and Janice linked arms, and leaned against each other, and watched us. They both had a smile on their faces, and I knew they were pleased that Henry and I got on so well. We downed a few beers that evening, before Janice drove us all back to the site. When we got there, Henry said he was going to open a bottle of wine. Janice put a stop to his idea.
"No you aren't! You've got to drive us back tomorrow. Off to bed with you!"
Henry laughed. He looked at me. "See, Dean, take note. This is what happens when you marry a Lloyd."
I laughed. "I'll remember what you said. Goodnight Henry."
Matthew gave his father a kiss before he disappeared into the caravan. That left just Matthew, Janice, and I. Matthew sort of melted into the background when his mother came to me. I expected a peck on the cheek, but she came close, and hugged me. Then she lifted her head, and looked up into my face. Very slowly, I lowered mine, and our lips touched, and we kissed softly.
She pulled away, with a smile on her face. Her voice was almost a whisper. "Remember what I said: take care of him."
I nodded. "I will. Goodnight, Janice."
"Good night, Dean."
Matthew reappeared, gave his mother a huge hug, and then kissed her on the lips. Janice went into the caravan, and shut the door. Matthew came to me, and kissed me. Then he led me by the hand down to the headland above our diving spot. We sat down, and Matthew hugged my arm. I lit a cigarette. Below us, illuminated by the bright half moon, the waves of the Atlantic Ocean crashed against the rocks, just as they had done for many thousands of years. A few gulls were squawking, and across the headland, a couple of little owls called to one another. I put my arm around my boy, and hugged him close. His arm came around my waist. I kissed his soft hair. He turned his head up to me, and our lips met, and caressed softly. I'd never been so happy in my life.
"Dean, can we just love each other tonight? Please? Let's end this holiday like that. We can have sex tomorrow, when we get home, but tonight, I just want to be naked in your arms, and tell you how much I love you, and I want to hear you tell me the same, and then I want to fall asleep in the arms of the person I love most in the world. Please?"
We walked back to the tent...and did exactly that.
To be continued...