This story is my first attempt at writing fiction - particularly erotic fiction - although I have some technical writing in my background.  The names and events are all figments of my imagination, and I apologize for any similarity to your life or lovers. I assure you, it's not intentional

I claim copyright privileges for this story. It springs from a favorite fantasy of mine, and if you find it enjoyable, let me know with an email to

The usual disclaimers apply. If you are under the legal age in your State, please go read something else. If you are offended by this type of subject matter, why are you reading stuff from a gay site?

For all the rest of you, enjoy.

Eric - Chapter Two

    As I drove toward home through the deepening snow, I occasionally glanced over at Eric sitting quietly beside me. He seemed utterly relaxed, and his soft snores soon made me realize he was asleep. 'Just as well,' I thought. 'He must be exhausted just from shivering'.

    The trip took almost two hours due to the snow. On dry pavement it was a forty minute drive to my property in the Coast Range foothills, but today the weather made the journey a tedious chore. I was glad I had stopped to have chains put on all four wheels. The man at the tire shop had made snickering noises while he put them on. Comments like, "It never snows here," were the common opinion with quiet chuckles and allusions to my mental state, but I had looked at the satellite picture before I left home that morning, and knew the storm was on its way. Large flakes had begun to fall and quickly cover the ground long before I pulled off of the parking apron.  The scoffing stopped as other drivers began to line up for the same job. It seemed we would have a white Christmas here for the first time in many, many years.

    It was already dark when Eric and I had left Sears, and it was well after six by the time I pulled up to my front gate. I pushed the "Call" button on the stanchion, and Tom answered the page almost immediately. "Is that you, Boss?" he asked.

    "Yes, and I have a guest" I said. "I would have used the remote, but wasn't sure the gate would push all this snow." There was considerably more than a foot on the ground at this elevation.

    "I've kept it clear waiting for you," he said. The gate swung open, and I drove through. It closed behind the truck, and I continued on up the drive to the main house. Tom and his domestic partner, Carl, lived in the gatehouse, a nice little two-bedroom arrangement with the gate controls and security monitors in a room overlooking the entrance.

    The exchange between Tom and I had disturbed Eric's slumber. As he stirred and opened his eyes, I silently blessed Tom and Carl for up the hill I saw the house through the falling snow all decked out in multi-colored Christmas lights. 'They must have spent the whole day doing that,' I thought. 'What a wonderful gift!' Eric's eyes widened in amazement - I wasn't sure if it was the Christmas lights or the sheer size of the house.

    "How many people live there?" he asked in quiet awe.

    "Just you and I," I chuckled. "Plenty of room to stretch out."

    I drove past the front entrance that had sprouted decorative sprays of evergreens on the jambs, and pulled around to the garage area. I pushed the button on the remote, and the door opened, allowing me to drive in. I pushed the button to close the door, and said, "Home at last! Come on, little one. Let's get you situated."

    Eric and I each grabbed some of the packages containing his new clothes, and I led the way through the mud room into the commercial sized kitchen, through the formal dining room and around to the stairs. He clumped along behind me in the unfamiliar boots as I climbed to the second floor, and on down the hallway to the largest of the three guest rooms. "This will be your room." I told him. "Don't bother to put things away for now. You can do that later." I led him into the private bath, and showed him where things were - soap, shampoo, a brush to scrub his back, and another for his nails, a new toothbrush, and how to operate the shower controls. "Put your dirty clothes in the hamper there" I instructed. "We'll get them washed after the holiday if they are salvageable. After you get cleaned up, put on something comfortable, and come down to the kitchen. I'll be there with something for you to eat .

    "By the way, are you Jewish? I asked.

    "No, why?" he asked

    "Jewish people have dietary restrictions," I said, "and although I don't know all the rules involved, I know they don't eat pork. I wouldn't want to violate your religious beliefs.."

    "No problem there," he said. "My father says he's a 'born again' Christian preacher, and after hearing him tell people how they are all going to burn in Hell, I don't think I want to believe in God."

    "Oh, my," I exclaimed.  "We'll have to talk about that. Don't you think God had a hand in making me be there for you this afternoon? Think about that while you get cleaned up, and I'll see you downstairs."  

    I left him to perform his ablutions, and went down to the kitchen. The rest of the house was wonderful, but this one room had sold me on the purchase. It had acres of counter space, miles of cabinets, and huge commercial appliances - one of them a six burner range with a restaurant size griddle at one end. I was in my element when preparing a meal here. I am a self- taught cook with a flair for both European and Oriental cuisines - and a "no fear" attitude when it came to trying a new recipe. There was also a state of the art gas barbeque on the patio off the family room for outdoor cooking in warmer times. One of the things I loved to do most was prepare a sumptuous dinner for one or more guests. Christmas Day would be an opportunity for indulging my passion for good food. I had invited Tom and Carl for dinner, and now there would be Eric too..

    I got out a pot, and put some lentil soup from the freezer on to heat. I had made the soup a few days before, and I thought it would help fill Eric's empty belly with something hot and substantial. I also sliced up some ham and cheese, put it on a platter, covered it with a clean towel, and set it next to a covered basket of bread. Then I went into the huge family room to start a fire in the fireplace. Tom and Carl had been there before me. They had not only started a fire, but had brought in a tree and trimmed it. It was beautiful with shimmering lights, and a toy village beneath it - complete with an electric train. I was astounded that they would do this for me. I had know about the decorations stored in the attic - they came with the house, as did most of the furniture - but I had not expected all this.  I made a mental note to thank them at dinner tomorrow.

    I returned to the kitchen and noticed the soup was hot so I turned the flame under it to "warm." I went out to the garage, and started unloading the foodstuffs I had gotten in town, and began to put them away. When that chore was finished, I looked at my watch. Eric had been washing for almost an hour, and I wondered if he was having a problem with something. I grabbed another armload of his packages from the truck, and went up to his room. After knocking on his door and getting no answer, I cautiously eased it open, and called out softly, "Eric? Can I come in?"

    "Yes," was the almost whispered reply.

    He was sitting on the queen sized bed, naked as the day he was born, and weeping quietly. "What's wrong?' I asked.

    "It's all too much." he sobbed. "I don't deserve all this."

    "But you do," I said insistently. "You deserve this, and more. Everyone gets pretty much what they deserve eventually. I hope I deserve you, and that we will become great friends."

    "But there's so much," he whimpered. "I can't decide what to wear. And I don't know what to do to thank you or how to make you happy, and I know you'll hate me when you find out what a dork I am, and how clumsy I am, and..." The words gushed out of him in a torrent interspersed with sobs.

    I reached out and took his head gently between my palms and looked him straight in the eyes. "Shush, now," I murmured, and kissed his forehead. "All that can wait. I'm not going to hate you for anything. This is a new beginning for both of us. Let's just let things happen naturally, and enjoy the ride - wherever it takes us.

    "Are you hungry?" I asked.

    He nodded his head, and I kissed his forehead again.

    "Then get something on, and come downstairs. There is hot soup, and sandwich makings on the table waiting for you." I said. "And after you eat, I'll give you the grand tour of the palace."

    He giggled a little, a wonderful, tinkling sound of mirth. He got up and started rummaging through one of the Sears bags. I sat down on the bed and had a front row seat to view this beautiful child. His greasy, stringy hair had been transformed into a golden halo of fine curls, and his smooth young body was hairless except for a few wispy strands  just above an emerging boy-to-man penis. I kept a tight rein on my baser instincts as he bent over to pull a package of briefs out of a bag. I wanted to kneel behind him, open those melon-like orbs with my thumbs, and run my lips and tongue up and down his well-scrubbed crack while listening to his moans of pleasure, but I restrained the urge and just sat on the bed enjoying the view. He seemed completely unconcerned that he was naked until he turned around and saw me looking at him. He quickly covered his privates with his hands, and blushed clear down to his toes. "Too late," I smiled at him. "I've seen everything you've got, and believe me, you have nothing to be ashamed of. God made you a beautiful boy, and crowned you with the stamp of His best work. You should never be ashamed of His handiwork."

    He walked the few steps to stand directly in front of me, and put his hands on my shoulders. "I like you," he said. "You always tell me things I like to hear."

    I put my hands on his ribs, and told him, "I only tell you things that are the truth. You are a very desirable young man, and I feel honored that you wanted to come home with me." I drew him to me and kissed him on the lips. I had intended to give him a peck, but he slid his arms around my neck and tightened his grip. It became a prolonged kiss. I sucked his upper lip between mine, and licked it gently. He responded by closing his lips over my lower lip, and began to lick it too. Our tongues touched, and I'm not sure which of us moaned, but I know he tasted wonderful. Suddenly he pulled away a bit and looked at me in utter surprise. "Popped a woody, didn't you," I stated.

    He nodded with embarrassment.

     "Me too," I admitted.

    He stepped back and looked down. He was sporting a very hard four inch bone between his legs - well formed, circumcised, and pointing at his navel. "I'm sorry," he muttered clouding up for another wet-cheeks session.  "It just happened. I couldn't help it."

    "Don't ever be sorry about that," I said trying to make  the tent in my own pants a little less obvious. "I'm flattered that you think I'm worth something like that. It's an indication that you liked what we were doing, and who you were doing it with. I should thank you.

    "Now, get dressed, and we'll go eat," I said. "I don't want to jump your bones and scare the heck out of you. I would like anything like that to be a gentle and natural progression of our friendship - not a snatch and grab it, 'wham-bam' type of thing. I hope you decide to stay here for a long time - so there will be plenty of opportunity for a long, loving relationship."

    "OK," he said picking up the dropped package of briefs. "You better leave then while I get dressed 'cause I liked being kissed, and I might be tempted to do it some more." He gave me a wide, sunny grin.

    I went to the door, turned briefly and smiled back at him. "I hope that's a promise," I said and left, closing the door behind me.


Well, there you have Chapter Two. I hope you liked it.

I was amazed and delighted with the positive response to the first installment. I got email from all over the world. Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement.

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