Date: Mon, 07 Jul 2008 18:35:58 +0100
From: mv_getaway@hush.com
Subject: Encounter with Keith -- Pre-pubescent but legal

Thankyou to all for the overwhelming response to the first part.

Here's part 2.  Some will be disappointed that there is no sex in this
part.  Don't worry - the third part is already nearly finished

If you don't like stories that involve paedophillia, or if you are too
young or it is illegal for you to read this, then you should really exit
now.  If you are reading this in order to become outraged or indignant,
then please read the whole thing and send me a flame email telling me how
wrong you think it is - I like a good laugh.

Everything described is probably fiction, similarities with real people or
places is sheer good luck.


	         Encounter with Keith -- Pre-pubescent but legal
	         ===============================================

                                     Part 2

                                   Chapter 6

I was entwined with Keith as we kissed, my leg draped casually over his
thighs as he lay on his back.  My left arm was around his head while I
gently stroked his soft short hair with my right hand.  My eyes were
closed, savouring the kiss, my nostrils filled with the sweet smell of an
unidentified perfume - no doubt from the shampoo Keith uses - but mixed
with a light undercurrent of perspiration and the smell of sex.  Both of
Keith's arms had moved around my upper back in a loose, open-palmed hug,
and he was gently stroking me as he hugged.  Our tongues were moving
against each other, mine going into his mouth and then being pushed back as
his tongue explored my mouth.

I opened my eyes to look into Keith's face.  His eyes had also been closed,
but he must have sensed somehow that I was now looking at him and opened
his eyes as well.  I withdrew from his lips and stared into his eyes from
inches away, taking in the myriad patterns and flecks of his blue-green
irises as Keith stared back into my eyes.

Breaking the moment, I moved my arms and pushed myself up.  "I suppose I'd
better get us something to eat," I stated, "It's gone eleven o'clock."

"I suppose so," replied Keith.  "It don't half make you hungry, don't it!"

That got us giggling again, but I stood up and went to the galley.  "Here,
grab this," I called, chucking a roll of kitchen towel up to Keith, "Then
maybe see what's on the telly if you want while I stick a couple of frozen
meals in the microwave."

About fifteen minutes later I emerged from the galley with a couple dishes,
bread and cutlery, and placed them on the table as I joined Keith on the
couch.  Keith was watching a film that I had seen before that was about
half way through.  Keith thanked me for the meal, and we ate together in
silence watching the mediocre film.  When we had both finished eating I
scooped up plates and cutlery, throwing the plastic dishes in the bin and
the cutlery into the galley sink before once again joining Keith on the
couch.

"That's the first meal I have eaten while completely naked," announced
Keith as I walked back to the couch.

"I think there has been a lot of 'firsts' this evening," I replied, to
which Keith grinned back at me in agreement.

This time I sat close to Keith, and then pulled him down until we were both
lying on the couch together.  I was lying against the back of the couch
facing the TV, pressed against Keith's back while I held him around his
chest in front of me, the top of his head just under my chin.  My head was
resting on a small cushion in the corner of the couch, and I grabbed the
cushion in the other corner with my feet and succeeded in flipping it to
where I could grab it and place under Keith's head.  Keith moved his free
arm back so that it was lying on top of my side, his hand slowly stroking
the side of my buttock while I gently caressed his chest and nipples.

I think that was the happiest moment of my life.  Gradually the TV blurred
and my eyelids gave up the fight to stay open, and I drifted into a
contented sleep.

My sleep was abruptly terminated by the sound of Keith shouting in alarm.

"Get off!  Get off!" he was shouting, and his arms and legs were flailing
about.  I was instantly alert, adrenaline pumping, wondering what the heck
was going on.  Was there an intruder on the boat?

"Leave her alone!" cried Keith, his movements more agitated.

I still had my arm around Keith's chest, and tightened my grip to prevent
Keith falling off the couch as I realised that he was having a nightmare.

"Keith.  Keith.  Keith.  Wake up, you are dreaming.  It's OK, you are safe.
You are dreaming, Keith," I softly repeated over and over into his ear.

Keith's movements started to reduce as I kept up my steady monologue.  I
saw that the TV was still switched on, and maybe something on the program's
sound had prompted the nightmare.  So I propped myself up on an elbow to
switch it off with the remote as I saw Keith settling down from his
imaginary experience.  As I lay back down, Keith turned over to face me,
his head buried in my chest, and placed an arm around my waist.

"Don't let him hurt Mummy, Jack," Keith said, but I have no idea whether he
was awake or asleep.

The next I knew, the Sun was streaming in through the glass doors, and the
clock on the bulkhead announced to me that it was eight o'clock.  It took
me a while to become oriented before the events of yesterday came flooding
back, and I looked with awe at the peacefully sleeping naked boy I was
holding close, with his arm around me and his legs entwined with mine.  I
marvelled at the sweet boy-scent coming from his body, and the smoothness
of his skin beneath my palms.  His face was relaxed, and he had the hint of
a contented smile at the corners of his lips.

I lay unmoving for about 45 minutes, just luxuriating in the situation.  I
had awoken with my usual morning erection, but strangely had no inclination
to touch Keith sexually, and was more inclined to look at his sleeping face
than his cute bum, though I had noticed that he also had a "morning glory".

My feelings toward him had changed subtly, and while the sexual attraction
was still very much present, I now felt tender and protective toward him,
and was content to wait for Keith to initiate the next sexual episode -
which I felt quite certain would happen when he was ready.

In due course I gently extracted myself, leaving Keith asleep on his side
on the couch.  The first event of almost every day for me was a cup of tea!
With that in mind I went to the galley and switched on the kettle.  As I
was stirring the sugar in my first cup, a voice called out, "Could I have a
cup too, please Jack?"

"The little bugger!" I thought to myself, grinning as I pulled another cup
off the shelf.  "Morning, sunshine!" I called back, and with no need to be
quiet, started whistling joyfully but not too tunefully as I made his
drink.
_______________________________________________________________________________________

                                   Chapter 7

"You had some dream last night," I remarked to Keith as we sat sipping our
tea.

"What do you mean?" asked Keith.

"You were thrashing around and shouting - don't you remember?"

"No - what was I shouting?" Keith wondered.

"Something about, 'get off her' and your Mum," I said.

Keith went quiet and his face fell a bit.  "Oh - no I don't remember that.
I have bad dreams sometimes.  Usually about Stuart."

"Is Stuart your stepdad?" I queried.

"Yes," was the quiet reply.  Keith had awoken bright and happy, but now
looked dejected.  Something was definitely not right.

"Sometimes Mum and Stuart have arguments," Keith said after quite a while.
He spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear.

"You mean they shout at each other?" I asked.

"Yeah - sometimes.  But ..."  Keith fell silent again.

"Does Stuart ever hit your Mum?" I finally asked.

Keith stood up and walked out the cabin through the forward companionway
without answering.  I figured he had gone for a pee.  It was quite a while
before he returned, and he had got fully dressed.  I was concerned as to
what was going on in his mind.  Did he regret last night?  Was he feeling
guilty?  Or was it my questions about Stuart?

I decided to get dressed myself, and went to my cabin.  When I returned,
Keith was sitting on the couch looking morose.  "Hey fella," I said with
more joviality than I felt, "What's up mate?"

"I don't want to ...  I mean it's my fault," Keith was struggling to say
something.  "Forget it," he said in a brighter voice.  "I wonder what time
Dad's getting here?"

I saw his face had lit up slightly as he thought about the prospect of
seeing his Dad.  He was obviously very close to his father, but I wondered
what was torturing him - he must hate his life at home, I thought.  I
suddenly felt angry.  What right had anyone got to limit the time Keith was
allowed to spend with his Dad?

"Keith?" I said, standing in front of him as he sat on the couch.  Keith
looked up at me.

"What, Jack?" Keith asked, seeing the serious expression on my face.

"Keith - it's just that sometimes it's good to talk to someone if there's
something making you unhappy.  And I'm here with nothing to do except
listen.  If you want?"  I was making a complete pig's ear of it.  We'd met
less than 24 hours ago, and here I was expecting the boy to trust me and
open up.  Now that the effect of the beers had worn off, I expect Keith
figured I was just a nasty perv, and that's what was really bothering him.
He couldn't wait for his Dad to pick him up and take him out of my sight.

Keith's face turned hard and his eyes narrowed.  "You want to know?  Yes,
Stuart hits my Mum.  My Mum cries.  So what?"

"What do you mean, 'so what'?  It is very, very wrong to hit your Mum like
that, Keith," I was perplexed by his change of attitude.

"Well," Keith spat out at me with a look of hatred in his eyes, "Lots of
men do things that are wrong.  Some hit women and others fuck children.
You should know.  That's just life."
_______________________________________________________________________________________

                                   Chapter 8

I felt as if I had just been punched in the stomach.  My mouth fell open,
and my eyes suddenly started to sting.  I realised that I had tears
streaming down my face.  My shoulders slumped and I turned to walk away.
"I'll wait in my cabin till your Dad gets here," I said, though I could not
stop my voice breaking as I said it.

"Oh - FUCK!" Keith exclaimed with such an anguished tone that I turned back
to face him.  Keith sprang off the couch and launched himself at me.  He
was going to hit me, and I was going to let him.  I had done a terrible
thing, and I deserved it.

Instead of hitting me, Keith wrapped both arms around my waist, buried his
head in my chest and started sobbing uncontrollably.  I started stroking
his hair, not knowing what was going on.

His sobs eventually started dying down.  "Jack, I'm really sorry," Keith
managed to say.  "I don't know why I said that - I didn't mean it at all -
I just wanted to hurt you but I don't know why.  Now I've fucked it."

I didn't know how to respond.  I was thinking of words to say, and then
quickly rejecting them.  So I lifted his head and kissed Keith on the lips.
A loving kiss, not a sensual kiss.  Then I said, "Keith, I love you.  No
matter what you say or do, I don't think that will change.  You haven't
fucked anything."

"Jack, I want to tell you stuff, but if I do you will hate me.  So I don't
want to tell you because you are the best person I have ever met."  Keith
was still sobbing quietly.

"Is it about Stuart?"  I asked.  Keith nodded into my chest.  "Keith, there
is no way I could possibly hate you.  You want to tell me, and I think you
should.  But only when you are ready.  Let me get us another cup of tea."
Why do us Brits always think tea will fix everything?
_______________________________________________________________________________________

                                   Chapter 9

In this case it did.  I was able to compose myself and wipe my face while
in the galley, and Keith had done the same by the time I came up with two
steaming mugs.  He was back on the couch, and as I sat next to him he took
my hand in his free hand while holding the mug in the other.

In due course I turned to look into Keith's face, and he turned toward me.
We remained looking at each other for about a minute, then Keith lowered
his head and started to talk in a monotone.

"Stuart gets in a bad mood with me and Mum about twice a week.  Then Mum
tells me to go upstairs to bed and that makes Stuart worse.  I pretend to
go but stay on the stairs where I can see what happens.  Stuart starts
throwing things and Mum tries to stop him - and that's when he hits her.
And he hits her and hits her and I just stay there and let him.  I don't do
nuffink to help my Mum - I let him hurt her.  Jack, I'm a coward - just a
weak coward, and that's what Stuart tells me as well, because he knows I
watch.  After he's finished, mum goes to the downstairs bathroom and cries.
And Stuart comes to me on the stairs and says I can join in if I want, and
have some as well.  Then he says he knows I won't do that 'cos I'm a
cowardly faggot."

Keith looked up into my eyes again, and said imploringly, "Jack, I really
want to help Mum, and I almost did once - I went up to them and Stuart
pushed me away, and my Mum got really cross with me and said that I had to
go to my room."

"Keith," I said, "I want you to listen to me very carefully.  You are not a
coward because it would be stupid to try to stand up to a bigger man.  It
would almost certainly make things worse and your Mum would get hurt even
more.  It is Stuart who is the coward, because only cowards pick on people
they know cannot fight back very well.  Keith, you have to believe me when
I tell you that it is not your fault in any way whatsoever."

"But I should be doing something instead of just standing there," Keith
said, "I wish I was bigger."

"Have you ever called the police?" I asked.

"Yes, once," replied Keith.  When they got there about half an hour later
it was all over, and my Mum told them that everything was OK and that it
was my imagination.  Then she got really cross at me for calling them.
Stuart punished me for it."

"How did he punish you?" I asked.

"He hit me with his belt," Keith said, "It made me feel a bit better
because at least I was hurting the same as Mum."

"Have you ever spoken about it to your Mum?" I wanted to know.

"Mum just says that Stuart gets tired, and she upsets him by having the TV
on or not cooking his food right, so we should try harder not to annoy
him."

Just then the 'phone rang.  It couldn't have been a less opportune time to
be interrupted.  I answered it, and it was James (Keith's Dad) calling to
say that he was at the entrance to the marina, and looking for directions.
I explained where to park and how to get to the boat.

I started to resume the conversation with Keith, but Keith was more
interested in his Dad arriving.

A while later, Keith said in an anxious voice, "Don't say anything about
Stuart to Dad."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Dad would go completely ape-shit," replied Keith, "And probably go round
and hit Stuart and things would get worse.  Mum has told me that Dad must
never know because if he does I would not be able to see him again."

I was about to reply when there was a cheery shout of "Ahoy!" from outside
the boat.  Keith's Dad had arrived on the dock.

"We'll have another chat about this later," I announced to Keith.  "Look
cheerful for your Dad!"

There was no need for the last remark - Keith's face had totally
transformed upon hearing his Dad's voice, and he was already eagerly
rushing to the door.


... To be continued

Constructive criticism and ideas for future chapters welcome.  email me at
mv_getaway@hush.com