Date: Fri, 5 Oct 2001 19:15:14 EDT
From: AmateurishWriter@aol.com
Subject: From Russia with Bear Hugs - 2

Warning: Except as noted, the following story is a work of fiction.  It is
a fantasy.  It never happened, except in the author's imagination.  This
story contains sex between teenaged boys and/or between a man and a teenage
boy or boys.  The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults
and little children.  If you are underage, or this is illegal where you
are, you already know what you're supposed to do.  Delete this file and
find something else.  If this kind of story turns you off, delete this file
and find something else.  If you're looking for a story that has someone
having sex in every other sentence, this one is not it.

The author retains the copyright for this story.  Placing this story on a
commercial web site without the authors permission is a violation of that
copyright.

Disclaimer: The author makes no representation that he is any kind of an
authority on the conditions of orphans and the homeless in Russia and
certainly does not mean to imply that those he describes in this story
actually do exist.  He chose the country solely because it goes with the
sound of the boy's name which is, in reality, the name of a once online
friend that the author genuinely cares for deeply.

Comments to AmateurishWriter@aol.com, pro and con and of a constructive
nature, will be gratefully received and acknowledged, if possible.  Flamers
will be ignored.


Near the end of Chapter One:

We reached Franklin and I turned into the entrance of the orphans' home.
"It was a pleasure meeting you Micha.  Thanks again for your advice on the
golf game.  Now to see if I can figure it out."

"You are most welcome and thank you for the ride.  I enjoyed meeting you as
well."  He was a very well mannered boy.

"Oh, enjoy the Masters on TV and maybe I'll see you at the golf range."

"Yes, I hope I see you again too and soon."  He dashed up the steps and
waved as I drove out.


Chapter Two - Surprise visit

Fickle as the weather is in New England, Sunday dawned sunny and warm in
spite of the forecast.  I did the laundry and shopping for the week and
then decided to sit out on the front porch to read in the late morning sun.
I was deep in the manual for the golf game when I heard someone coming up
the steps to the porch.  It was Micha looking every bit as good as the day
before.

"Hi there my young friend.  Are you out observing American Sunday morning
culture in the wild?"

He laughed.  "Yes and no.  I saw you reading that manual and thought I'd
ask if you liked the game."

"Well, actually, I'm totally mystified by a couple commands so I haven't
played it yet."

He walked over to the side of my chair and looked over my shoulder at where
I pointed.  He began to explain and it became quite clear that he knew both
golf and the computer game very well, not to mention computers in general.
As he leaned over my shoulder I became acutely aware of his crotch pressed
up against my arm just above the elbow.  Each time I turned a page I
inadvertently moved against him there.  I couldn't help it but he didn't
seem to notice or mind and made no effort to break the contact.  Oh, and I
could smell him.  It was an intoxicating mixture of soap and adolescent boy
aroma that, along with feeling the warmth from his body, was beginning to
get me aroused.

After a few more moments of trying to explain the manual to me he
suggested; "It would be easier if I could show you on the computer."

I nodded.  "That's a great idea."  I got up, carefully trying to disguise
the effect that his aroma and warm physical contact had had on me.

We went in to my computer and I pulled up a second chair.  He expertly
booted up my machine and got the game running.  He was quite a good teacher
and soon we were engrossed in a good match.  After about an hour, I offered
him a soda and sandwich which he very politely but ravenously inhaled.  By
mid-afternoon he had handily beat me with an eagle on the par 5 18th hole.

I acknowledged his skill.  "Micha, you are very good at this game.  At
computers too."

He looked pleased with himself.  "Thank you.  It all seems so, how do you
say ... natural to me."

"You are a good teacher too.  Thanks for helping me figure the game out."

He shyly accepted my praise and appreciation.  "You're welcome."

"Did you get to watch the Masters yesterday?"

"No."  He replied with a disappointed look.  "The TV is broken at the
home."

"It's on in an hour.  You're welcome to watch it here if you like but only
if it's okay with those at the home."

"Oh cool!  Er ... you're sure that would be okay?  You don't mind?"

I smiled at him.  "Yes, I would like it very much and no, I don't mind at
all.  You are good company but give them a call to let them know."

He blushed at the compliment and mumbled.  "No one would miss me until
bedtime."

I insisted that he be sure anyhow.  When he came back from the phone he
told me, "They didn't even ask where I was."

I felt so bad for him, I could see the sadness in his eyes.  Here he was,
brought to the almighty America to be saved from homelessness and those
that were to care for him weren't even concerned for where he was or who he
was with.

"There's not enough time for another game so, let's grab a soda and sit on
the porch.  I'd enjoy hearing more about you."

We chatted for about 45 minutes and I learned that Micha had come here
about 3 years ago.  That explained his good command of English although he
said that when he was little they taught English in his school in Russia.
His mother had died from a hemorrhage when he was born and his father
blamed him.  He had no interest in the boy other than he had to do his
chores and go to school.  Since his mother's death his father had developed
a drinking problem.

They were eventually evicted from their meager one room cold water flat and
about a month later his father had died from the drinking and exposure, as
they were living on the streets.  Micha continued to live alone and by his
wits on those filthy crime ridden streets.  He received numerous beatings
for his refusal to be a currier for the local drug dealers and from pimps
trying to get him to sell his body.  I thought to myself it was absolutely
amazing that he never got down enough to try drugs or alcohol and desperate
or lonely enough to let his little body be used or was molested.

Finding a way to get an occasional meal at a soup kitchen proved to be his
salvation.  It was run by the American organization that brought him here.
After a few months he grew to trust them and agreed to come here.  He, in
effect, had never had a loving family life, no real friends and no
childhood.  Now, after three years in limbo in the orphans' home, I sensed
that Micha was a very lonely boy.  But, to his credit, he hadn't given up.

I complimented him on his appearance and he blushed again.  It was very
charming and endearing.  I slowly learned that his concern for his
appearance was part of his plan for life.  He was extremely grateful for
the opportunity that coming to America afforded him and despite his less
than perfect living arrangements and the near impossibility of adoption, he
felt bound and determined to make good.  He wanted to dedicate his life to
applying the power of computers and the Internet to helping the world's
children in need.  The more we talked, the more I liked this young man.

It dawned on me that I had no idea how old he really was and that he seemed
to avoid disclosing that information.  As I have mentioned, he could easily
have been as young as maybe 11 and a half or just turned 13 or so.  I
decided that maybe he was sensitive about it and so, I wouldn't ask just
yet.  However, that only confused the issue in my mind.  Was he older and
bothered by being so small and looking so young or young and not wanting to
let on?  The latter seemed foolish as being younger might help his being
adopted.

He certainly seemed quite mature and sure of himself.  He hadn't hesitated,
like some youngsters might, to stop by and see how I was doing with the
golf game.  Given his history, especially being homeless and on his own,
even if for just a few months, I was not at all surprised by his
confidence.  But then again, could that be a mask that a frightened little
boy was hiding behind?

Towards the end of our chat he began to ask about me.  He was particularly
surprised to learn that I was already retired and only taking occasional
consulting jobs.  When he learned this, his main interest was how I paid
the bills.  I explained that I had planned well for retirement and had been
quite fortunate in getting a nice inheritance from my parents.  That had
permitted me to retire quite a bit earlier than usual.  Being conservative
about my spending habits, I had sold my big house and moved into this small
modest neighborhood.  I enjoyed keeping busy with the few consulting jobs
and the income from them covered a surprising amount of my living expenses.

He noticed that I wasn't married and inquired if my wife had died and did I
have any children.  On the other hand, he showed no surprise when I
explained that I had never married and while I love kids and would have
liked to have had children, I thoroughly enjoyed my nieces and nephews.  I
didn't think telling someone so young that I was gay was such a good idea,
particularly in light of my interest in young teens.  I was no predator,
pretty much content to just look.  But, I had had a few experiences when I
was quite a bit younger, all having been initiated but the youngsters.  If
he brought up the subject of being gay, my policy was to be completely open
and honest about it.

"You would have made a very good father, I think.  I would have been most
fortunate to have had a father like you."

"Why thank you Micha, that is very kind of you to say."

"Well, I trust my judgment of people.  I sometimes think that I have a
special talent that way.  Maybe it comes from living on the streets in a
big city."

"I think that will come in very useful in your plans to help disadvantaged
children.  I suspect that you will have to deal with a lot of less than
nice people.  Oh my, look at the time.  Let's move in to the TV.  Want
another soda?"

"Yes thank you, I would."  We took turns in the bathroom, grabbed a couple
more sodas and dropped into the sofa in front of the TV.

The time flew.  It was a great match and we both agreed that the guy who
won had earned it.  I couldn't remember the last time that I enjoyed
company this much.

It was close to supper time so I suggested that Micha should make a good
impression and get back to the home in time.  I offered to give him a ride
and teased him about the first ride I gave him.  "No strings this time".

Micha giggled, yawned and stretched like a puppy.  Without his denim jacket
he looked even more extraordinary and I wondered if he was even remotely
aware of how cute and sexy he was.  I knew I would dream about him ... and
I did, often.

He smiled a sleepy smile at me and leaned over to give me a shy hug.
"Thanks for letting me watch the match with you.  I really liked it."

He stood to leave and as I watched him, I noticed that his clothes didn't
have a single wrinkle anywhere.  You could almost use the word smooth to
describe how they fit.  As he carefully put on his denim jackets he smiled
down at me.  Once again, I was left with that feeling that he knew just
what I had been thinking.

Over the next few weeks the golf game and TV golf matches became a regular
weekend routine for us.  We also had some fun at the golf range where I
learned that Micha often worked afternoons to get extra spending money and
free balls to hit.  He confided that he saved between 50 and 75% of every
dollar.  It was hidden in a jar in the basement of the home and he had been
doing so for a long time.

After the third weekend I made it a point to introduce myself to the
manager of the home where Micha lived.  I felt it appropriate that I
explain the circumstances of my meeting Micha and that we had became
friends.  The staff there seemed disturbingly unconcerned for where he was
or what he was doing.  That's when I had the first thought of maybe helping
the boy somehow.  It was clear to me that they would only do the minimum
required by law.

Micha and I got on quite well with each other and often got giggling and
acting silly while trying to out tease or out fox each other with simple
practical jokes.  We liked so many of the same things, it was uncanny.

One Saturday, about a month after we met, the TV coverage of the golf match
had ended and Micha asked if he could stay to watch "Tin Cup", the golf
movie with Kevin Costner.  They didn't get that cable channel in the home
and he desperately wanted to see it.  Again I insisted that he clear it
with the home.

"It's all set.  I asked before I came over.  I even have a change of
clothes for tomorrow ... in ... my ... backpack ... Uh oh."  He was looking
at my surprised and slightly annoyed expression.  "Oh, I guess I should
have asked first.  I'm sorry John."  There was a long and awkward silence,
the first between us.

I waited to see what he would say and I guess he mistook my silence for
anger.  He very formally said; "Maybe I should go."

"Now hold on a second," I interrupted.  "No one said you have to go but I
hope you are learning from the feelings you're having right now."

He was visibly upset with himself.  "I really am sorry.  I guess I'm too
used to making my own decisions.  Yes, I have learned something and I feel
terrible about being ... ah, per ... pre ... ."

"Presumptuous."  I said it for him.

The boy was so upset with himself that he seemed almost to be trembling.

This boy was scaring me.  I had expected a childish defensive overreaction
and instead got the mature reaction of an adult.  This wasn't good.  The
boy had been so affected by his hard life in Russia and the disappointments
of his fate here that he had missed out on his childhood.  Don't get me
wrong, I'm not knocking a polite and mature acting child.  But, that's just
it, he was still a child and that child was going to show up sooner or
later.  And, one way or another, I suspected it wasn't going to be easy for
him.

Micha was going to need someone to be there for him when it happened and
there sure didn't seem to be anyone like that at the home.  At that moment
I decided it would have to be me because I cared about him ... cared for
him ... loved him.  Oh God!  What had I gotten into?  It had happened so
quickly and yet, so gradually that I had not even suspected.  A month or so
ago Micha had taken my breath away and now he had stolen my heart as well.

We were standing in the kitchen just looking at each other in silence as he
waited for me to respond.  Again I had that feeling that he knew just what
I was thinking.

I sighed. "Micha, you are always welcome here and if you ever need me I
will always be here for you.  I care about you."

He stared me in the eye, almost in disbelief and then complete relief
flooded his face and he ran into my arms burying his face in my chest and
some of the child came out in his tears of relief.  He was indeed trembling
but now from the lifting of the burden of too many years of utter
aloneness.  I suspected that I had just taken on the biggest responsibility
of my life and, while it scared me to death I welcomed it as I welcomed
him, with open arms.

Next: Chapter Three - More surprises