Date: Wed, 01 Dec 1999 00:01:49 EST From: Double A Subject: Fabien's Puppy - Part 1 Disclaimer: Okay, well this story is about a teenager who is involved in a relationship with a fairly young boy. Like most of my stories, it focuses most on love, but there are also scenes of sexual contact between the two. Those who are offended by boylove would do well to read another sort of story. However, I promise that this story will not disappoint any of my fans who are familiar with my unique style of writing. Although it should be plainly obvious, I feel obligated to tell you that this is just a story of fiction and all characters portrayed in this work are fictional. I don't want to ruin the mood of the story with a lecture about how children are our greatest treasure....blah blah blah...cherish, don't harm them....yada yada yada, but I will remind you that thousands of people are in therapy, because they were sexually molested as children. These children were hurt, emotionally if not physically. Don't be stupid and do something like that. This is an experimental story for me, so I want all who read it to deliver comments and, I beg you, please be frank. It would do better to offend me than to lie to me. Oh, and you'll notice that there are some dialogue going on in the story, which is in french. That's because this story is taking place in Montreal, Canada, and I wanted to add some more realism. If you understand french, then this won't be a problem for you, but even if you don't, you're not missing anything too important. Most of the character actions make what is said pretty obvious and if it's really crucial to the story, then it'll be translated immediately after. However, if the reaction is really negative, then I'll just forgo the additional realism in favour of ease of reading. My e-mail, as my fans know, is: "alevitt98@hotmail.com" and my ICQ number is: 17099063 Anyway, enjoy! ************************ Part 1: The sunlight, streaming through the partially open blinds in his room, caused Fabien Raineau to squint his eyes and groan wearily. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and the familiar sound of his mother's voice calling, "Fabien, tu doit reveiller maintenant, mon fils! Il y a l'ecole aujourd'hui!" Fabien considered going back to sleep, but his mother was usually very insistent on him getting up early. Turning his head slightly, he regarded the still-sleeping form next to him for a few moments. The quietly-snoring boy's slender chest rose and fell with each breath that he took, concealed as it was underneath his thin pajama top. Bangs of his strawberry-blond hair hung over his closed eyes like a thin curtain, keeping out the harsh rays of sunlight. His pinkish lips were slightly parted in a gentle pout. Fabien could see his legs shift slightly underneath the heavy quilt that they both slept under, jerking somewhat in a possible dream that he might be having. Turning to regard the door for a moment, Fabien frowned and then turned back to face the sleeping child. His hand slowly slid down and gripped the quilt firmly, pulling it down off his and the boy's body. Despite the heat in the room, Fabien shivered slightly as his body, clothed only in skimpy boxers, was exposed to the open air. He heard the boy next to him take a sharp intake of breath and, almost in reflex, turn onto his side and lay in the fetal position, his small arms clutching his pyjama-clad form. Fabien tsk'ed to himself and, reaching out, put his hand on the boy's shoulder, gently easing him back onto his back. The boy rolled back over relatively easily, his eyes still closed and his breathing still regular. "Fabien!" Fabien quickly turned to the door and replied, "Une seconde, maman!" then turned back to the child. The sound of Fabien's mother had stirred the child this time and Fabien could see his eyes open slightly and his arms stretching out above his head. Before they could open completely, Fabien quickly slid his hand down the boy's body and beneath the waistband of the boy's bottoms. There was a sharp intake of breath and the boy's eyes opened fully, as Fabien gently gripped the boy's small penis between his first three fingers and pulled on it slowly and repetitively, sliding the uncut foreskin back and forth across the swollen little head. Looking up at him with love, the boy smiled and said, his voice a high-pitched song of a sound, "Good morning, Fabien." Still gently masturbating the boy, Fabien leaned down slowly and kissed the boy's lips quickly. When he rose back up again, Fabien smiled and replied, "Good morning, Tommy." Tommy looked down at where Fabien's hand was, then looked back up at him and, smiling, prodded, "Harder, Fabien! I wanna get that feeling again!" Fabien nodded in acknowledgement and began a quicker, more forceful stroking of the young boy's stiff, little hairless cocklet. Tommy arched his back slightly, thrusting his hairless crotch harder against Fabien's hand. "Oh God, Fabien!" He whined, "I'm getting that feeling again!" "Shhh!" Fabien warned, "I don't want my mom to hear!" "I...I can't help it!" Tommy panted, trying to be as quiet as possible, "It feels so good....so freaking good." Fabien smiled, his own sixteen-year-old hormones racing with the growing arousal of his young charge, and whispered, "I know it does. Just...Just try and keep it down, okay?" Tommy smiled up at Fabien, through slitted eyes, and reached his little hand across the bed. Fabien let out an involuntary yelp, as he felt the boy's hand reach up the leg of his boxer shorts and grip his stiff penis. In response, he began pulling quicker on the boy's foreskin, sliding it faster and harder over the sensitive head of his little penis. He could feel the tight little sack of the boy's testicles tightening against his body. Tommy couldn't wrap it fully around Fabien's prick, but he squeezed the part that he had and sighed, "Oh...Uh....Oh...Geez...Ah....OH GOD!" "Shhh!" Fabien hissed, "I said quiet!" Tommy squeezed Fabien's penis tightly and groaned, "Oh God, here it comes! I...I'm...!" A second later, the boy's head snapped back and his whole body stiffened. Through clenched teeth, he let out a high-pitched yelp, then broke into a series of quick pants. Fabien could feel the boy's stomach muscles rippling as a powerful orgasm ran through the boy's immature body. Tommy's stiff penis spasmed repeatedly against Fabien's fingers, desperately trying to squirt sperm that didn't exist in the boy's young balls yet. The young boy's whole body squirmed and jerked in the throes of a climax that his childish body wasn't yet sure how to handle. Not wanting to, but seeing no choice, Fabien quickly pulled his pillow up and stuck it over Tommy's face. He normally enjoyed watching his young lover's body convulse in an orgasm and listening to his squeals and pants of ecstasy, but his mother was home and he was in enough trouble for his relationship anyway. When he felt the boy's quivers begin to subside and his body relax, he eased the pillow off his face. Tommy's face was covered in a sheen of sweat and he still breathed rather quickly. "I'm sorry, Fabien." He sighed, as he caught his breath. Fabien shook his head and slid out of bed, placing the pillow back in its place, "No, it's okay. It's not your fault that you go crazy like that." Tommy slipped out of bed too and shrugged, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist, "I tried to not have that happen, but it just...did." Fabien nodded, reaching down and picking up the jeans that he had let fall there the night before, "C'est cool, mon petit. Presse-toi, alors, parce-ce-que nous devons allers au l'ecole." Tommy nodded and did as he was told, shedding his pajamas and stuffing them in the knapsack that lay in the corner of the room. Meanwhile, Fabien pulled on his jeans and sweatshirt, then went over to his bureau and began brushing the sleepy-time knots out of his long blond hair. By the time Tommy was dressed in his oversized T-shirt and jogging pants, Fabien was finished putting on his deodorant and his erection had fully subsided. Tommy walked over to Fabien and said, "Well, I'll see you tonight, okay?" Fabien nodded and smiled, "Je t'aime, mon petit amour." then leaned down and kissed the boy's lips quickly. Tommy smiled and licked his lips, drinking in the droplets of saliva that Fabien had left, "I love you too, Fabien." With that, Tommy slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door, leaving the room. Fabien watched him go and hoped that the boy wouldn't be hassled too much by his mother, knowing how she felt about what was going on. When he heard the front door open and shut, Fabien went back to his mirror and took a long look at himself. He was a pretty handsome seventeen-year-old. At least, he thought so. He had long, thick blond hair, down to the middle of his back, that made lots of the girls at his high school jealous, but he didn't care if people thought that it looked girlish. He loved to play with it and tie it back and use it as a scarf in the winter. It took him two full years to grow it this long, with the added stress of his parents begging him to cut it. He also had periwinkle-coloured eyes, which everybody loved to look at, for its unusualness and, secretly, its beauty. His facial features were chiselled like his father's, with a masculine shape, but not roughened like some guys. Except for a small pimple on the side of his nose, his face was blemishless and, a lot have said, quite cute. He knew for a fact that there were several girls that had a crush on him, but they were out of luck, because he was gay. Gay and taken. It wasn't so much the gayness that Fabien's parents found so hard to cope with. He'd come out to them last year and they'd be pretty understanding. Granted, they weren't very pleased, but they just told him that he needed to do what made him happy. That's when he told them what made him happy. Fabien had bluntly come out and told them that he was currently in love with the son of their next-door neighbour, Tommy. He also told them that he had been currently involved in sexual relations with Tommy for over two years now. This probably wouldn't have been so difficult for Fabien's parents to deal with, had it not been for one small fact... Tommy was eight-years-old. TO BE CONTINUED....