Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2001 09:05:15 EDT
From: AmateurishWriter@aol.com
Subject: From Russia with Bear Hugs - 4

From Russia with Bear Hugs

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 representations that he is any kind of an
authority on adoption, here or from Russia, 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 Three:

The rest of the day was, as each weekend so often was, dedicated to golf.
The range, the computer game and the weekly match on TV.  I had no idea
what we'd do in the off-season.  After the match I dropped Micha off at the
home and we enjoyed a warm hug just before he went in.  I slowly drove out
the gate and looked back to see him wave.  On the way home I planned out my
Russian research.*

*Author's Note: You can read first hand some of the material that I found
as research for this story.  Just do a web search typing in the words
'Russian orphans' and you will gain access to over 5000 sites concerning
Russian orphans.


Chapter Four - Nightmares and other dreams

The information age, it never ceases to amaze me what you can find on the
Internet.  I had absolutely no need to go to the library.  The first thing
I discovered was that life for the poor, the homeless, the orphan, was a
living hell in the area of Russia from which Micha was rescued.  I use the
word rescued because that's just what it seemed like to me.

Many children died of malnutrition or their physical development was
greatly arrested, they died of diseases too numerous to imagine or were
exploited in all manor of ways.  The physical and emotional affects were
terrible.  Normal physical and emotional growth was greatly slowed so that
the children were smaller physically and younger emotionally than children
of like ages in normal environments.  Antisocial behavior was the norm and
in case after case the damage to the child was irreversible beyond
mid-teens.  Micha had been rescued just in time.  It was no surprise to me
that he had nightmares.

As for adoption, that was a different story.  Even though the American
government had the appearance of the hero here, it couldn't get rid of it's
obligation fast enough, one way or the other.  Unfortunately for the
children, if they weren't adopted or otherwise "sponsored" by a citizen by
the time they were 18, they would be sent back to Russia.  However, I
discovered that, with a little hard work and a friendly and sympathetic
attorney, the adoption could be accomplished without meeting all of the
usual requirements for adopting children of American heritage.

I thought that over the next few weeks I would get as much of the work done
as my lawyer and I could before contacting the appropriate parties and
making the final decision.  During that time I would get to know more about
Micha and try to get a feel for just what he wanted as well.  Then, if I
became confident that adoption was what we both wanted and it would be best
for Micha, I would propose the idea to him.  I already strongly believed
that it was what he would want and I had the feeling that great tears of
joy would be shed.

The next Saturday came before I knew it.  I was tired from lying awake
either from bad dreams about the horror of Micha's life in Russia or
thinking of all the details of his adoption or dreaming of all the things
that we would do together.  I even began to think of a second career
helping him with his plan for using computers and the Internet in an effort
to help the world's children in need.

Micha was due at about 1:30 PM as the golf tournament came on TV at 2 PM.
He was late which was not like him.  2 PM came and went and no Micha.  I
tried to watch the TV but couldn't and was just about to drive over to the
home when the front door burst open and he ran in nearly hysterical.  He
rushed over to me and collapsed in my arms, a very disheveled and upset
child clutching a cracked and dirty glass jar stuffed with money.

He sat sideways on my knee reaching his arm around me and buried his face
in my neck.  He sobbed as he swore like a dock worker.  "Goddamned cock
sucking cunt lapping basterds!"

"Micha, what's wrong?  What happened?"  He looked terrible, a mess.  His
clothes were in disarray and dirty and his face was dirty and there were
the beginnings of bruises.  He had clearly been in a fight.

"I kicked the living shit out of those filthy thieving sons of bitches!"

"Are you okay?  Please tell me what happened!"

"I'm okay.  But they tried to rob my savings!  They saw me putting today's
pay from the golf range into my hiding place and they jumped me!  But I
showed 'em, I kicked 'em both right in the fucking balls!"

I tried to calm him down, to comfort him.  I stroked his hair and gently
rubbed his back.  He wrapped both arms around me, hugging me even closer
and continued his litany, speaking more slowly into the softness of my
neck.

"Both those fucking shitheads.  I hope they fucking talk like fucking
little Vienna choir boys for the rest of their fucking lives and can't have
fucking children."

I couldn't help it.  This was so totally uncharacteristic of Micha.  The
nearly always mature and adult Micha who blushed if he slipped and used a
bad word in my presence.  I began to giggle.  "I see that you have mastered
American swear words as well as you have mastered proper English."

Micha sat back and glared at me.  If looks could kill, I was in deep
trouble.  After a moment I watched as his eyes changed focus as he began to
think back over what he had just been saying.  Then he started to giggle,
"Maybe-he I ma-hayde them fu-hucking eunuchs-ss-sss."  We laughed at that
one together.

We finally stopped laughing and he leaned against me again, resting his
head on my shoulder.  I sat there rubbing his back with my eyes closed and
just trying to let him know that I cared.  I felt him raise his head once
more and I was just about to open my eyes and say something when his lips
softly brushed mine like the other night.  However, this time they lingered
and slowly the soft touch became firmer.  His arms tightened around me and
I felt myself began to kiss him back.  Just as it dawned on me what was
happening, just before it became more than a kiss of innocent affection and
gratitude, he stopped and moved his face to my ear and whispered, "I love
you John, I love you more than anything in the world.  I wish I could live
with you forever.  I ..."

I interrupted him before he could say more, the feeling of that near
passionate kiss still fresh on my lips, in my mind and in my groin, "Now
it's my turn for something very serious that I have to tell you.  It is
something that you should know about me.  I should have told you sooner but
..."

He sat back away from me further and looked at me directly, "I know John."

"Know what?"

"That you are gay.  I've known, well suspected, from the beginning."

After that kiss, all of my good intentions of the past week fell by the
wayside.  I guess I was really frightened as I even forgot for the moment
why he was sitting on my lap.  I just thought about my own fears.  "Micha,
don't take this wrong but I don't think that you should be spending the
night here again.  I'm gay and so young a boy staying here just isn't a
good idea."

"What do you mean, 'so young'?  Just how old do you think I am anyhow?"

"Well, I, ah ..."  I stalled as I thought; he obviously was older than he
looked, older than I thought.  I decided to play it safe.  "I guess maybe
13? ... Almost 14?"

"Herumpf.  Playing it safe huh?"

God, there he is doing it again, reading my mind.  "Well I ..."

"Try 15, this past February 2nd!"

My mouth dropped open.  However, from what I had read about what street
orphans go through in Russia, I should not have been so surprised.  But I
was surprised and embarrassed too.  "Oh my.  I'm sorry Micha."

"That's okay, I'm used to it."  God, there he was, being mature again, just
when I least expected it.

"No, it's not okay and no, you aren't used to it and you shouldn't have to
be!"  I nearly shouted.  "I should have asked."

"Thanks, apology accepted but really, it's okay.  I'm actually glad that
I'm so small and look so young, I'm proud of my body.  Besides, there are
advantages.  But much more important John, I trust you.  I know that you
would never do anything that I didn't want you to.  You would never do
anything to hurt me."

I knew there was more to what he had just said than I had picked up on at
first glance but my mind was spinning now.  I realized that there were
things that I hadn't taken into consideration in my desire to do something
to help this boy who I had grown to genuinely care for.  And, there was the
problem of the moment.  He had to get cleaned up and then he had to decide
whether or not to make a complaint to the home.  There was also the problem
of what to do with his money.

"C'mon, let's take care of you first and then we can talk about what you
want to do about those 'fucking shitheads' as you so eloquently put it."
He blushed a bright red and apologized for the language.  I told him that I
enjoyed every word and not to worry, there was nothing more satisfying than
a string of foul language when circumstances warranted.  After all, I had
been in the Army.  He looked at me kind of funny and then burst out
laughing.  I was glad to see it.

"I'm okay, I'll just go wash my face."

He came back looking as neat as a pin, with the exception of a couple small
bumps on his forehead and some smudges on his clothes.  He said he had head
butted one kid and hit him right in the belt buckle.  I told him he was
lucky he didn't break his glasses.  I suggested that he sit down and count
his money and was absolutely flabbergasted when he came up with over $2600.
We talked about a bank account and he told me he had heard that if you got
one the home had to have control because of his age and he didn't trust
them.  We agreed that I would give him a note for the money with interest
and that my attorney would witness the transaction.  Then as he got paid we
could add to the note.

"Now my young friend, what do you want to do about those two little ... ah,
hoodlums?"  I kind of knew what he would say though.  I knew he was proud
and would like to fight his own battles.

"Well, making a complaint would only make it worse.  Most of the guys there
are my friends and they'll not be quite so friendly with these two anymore.
That may be enough.  I'd rather not make things any more difficult."

"Well put Micha.  You have wisdom beyond your years my young friend.  Then
that's settled.  Okay, the golf is over on TV so what do you say we do
something special.  What'll it be?  My treat.  Dinner out?  A movie?"

We settled on both and rolled back into the driveway around 11:30 PM.
Micha was dozing in his seat and I gently shook his shoulder.  "Hey buddy!
You gonna spend the night in the car?"

"Huh?  Oh.  We're back at your house.  I thought that you would drop me off
at the home."

"Why?  Oh, because of what I said earlier?  You going to listen to a silly
old man who worries too much about what other people think?"

"You are not silly and you are not old and you are right to be concerned
but as I said, I trust you.  I know you wont bite, at least not unless, er,
well ... never mind.  Anyhow, I don't mind going back to the home if you
think it's for the best.  But I would rather stay here with silly old you."

"You sure you're not 30 instead of 15?  I'm very impressed with you young
man."  I was shaking my head.  "No, I don't think it's best.  I like having
you around and I miss you when you're not here.  So, get your butt moving.
I'm half asleep and need to take a wicked piss."

Micha giggled at my colorful language and dashed from the car.  He teased
me all the way to the bathroom blocking my path and telling me not to piss
my pants.  It was silly but we were laughing so hard I almost did.  It was
such silly fun and fed my love for him.  I wished I was sure of the
adoption idea right now so I could tell him.  As I came out of the bathroom
I heard him moving around upstairs.  I locked the doors and went up.

"Hey buddy, what do you want to do about ... well, I hate to remind you but
last Saturday night's bad dreams?"

"I think I'll be all right if I leave the door open.  I know you're here.
Anyhow, I'll have to deal with it someday."

It's amazing how one minute he can act like a little boy and the next like
a mature adult.  It fit right in with the psychological profile of the
Russian orphans that I found on the Internet.  "I'll be right here and will
keep one ear open if you need me."

I crossed the room and gave him a gentle hug and kissed the top of his
head.  I wanted to avoid the temptation of the kiss he gave me earlier.
His hair and boy aroma smelled so good it sent a shiver through me and I
trembled as I eased away from his arms.  He gave me a funny kind of
questioning look.

"Good night Micha."

He smiled weakly.  "Good night John and thank you for letting me stay."

I went to my room saying, "Sleep well."

I couldn't say for sure if I had slept at all but I was awake now and
noticed the clock.  It was 2:07 AM.  My mind was lumbering along thinking
of feelings and needs, both mine and Micha's.  I cared about him in all the
ways that a good father should and I loved him very much.  I was also very
attracted to him sexually and felt very guilty about it.

I had always been attracted to teenaged boys from when I was about 13 on
and had had a few relationships in my late teens and 20's.  All had been
initiated by the boys and I was still friends with a couple of them who
lived nearby.  But that was over 25 years ago and since then I had been
content to just look.  Now here I was with a very attractive boy who needed
me, certainly as a friend and maybe as a father.  I had the where-with-all
to provide for him but I was complicating it by getting aroused when we
hugged or he kissed me.  I know that Europeans are much more at ease with
touching and kissing but I found him so attractive that those innocent
activities stimulated a sexual response in me.  My quandary seemed
insurmountable.

It was just then that I heard the first whimper from Micha's room.  I
waited quietly and after a while another more urgent one knifed through the
dark.  I got up, slipped on my shorts and stood in the hall outside his
door.  There was the rustle of bed sheets being thrashed about and another
heartbreaking soft but urgent whine.  I walked over to his bed in the
nearly impenetrable darkness and looked down at him.  He was on his stomach
and had kicked back the sheets so they only half covered him.  He was naked
and I could just make out the smooth round rise of his nearly uncovered
backside.  I froze as my heart raced.  I shook off the feelings rising up
in me and pulled the sheet up over him.  "Ssh, ssh Micha," I stroked his
hair softly.  "I'm here.  Sleep now my boy.  I love you."

He seemed to calm and his breathing became softer and quieted.  I stroked
his hair once more and went back to my bed.  I lay there in turmoil
wondering what to do.  I had befriended him and now I was thinking that
maybe I should distance myself from him.  Not only for his own good but for
mine as well.  I felt terrible.

I reluctantly returned to my room, slipped off my shorts again and settled
into the bed.  I must have dozed off slightly as I was gently startled by
the movement of the sheet and then the bed.  I realized that Micha had
climbed in with me.  I was instantly aroused.  He didn't snuggle up to my
back as I feared and, yes, hoped but merely settled for the lightest touch
of his fingertips on my back.  I lay there frozen in the fear that he would
somehow discover my arousal.  Slowly his breathing relaxed and when I was
sure that he was asleep I gently slid out of bed and walked out onto the
deck.

What was I going to do?  This boy, in his innocence was driving me to
distraction.  It was a cool late spring night and I inhaled the sweet fresh
aromas of new growth and spring flowers.  It helped to calm me.  I quietly
slide the cover off the hot tub and slipped into its soothingly hot waters.
I reclined on the bench but didn't turn on the jets so as not to awaken
Micha.  I closed my eyes and forced any thoughts of the moment out of my
mind and tried to think of the calm water, tropical breezes and swaying
palms.  I felt myself gradually drift off into a very light sleep.

I could hear the palm fronds rustling along the deck in the breeze and feel
the gentle ripples of the water on my shoulders.  There was a gentle splash
and a light touch on my shoulder and then on my hip.  I sleepily opened my
eyes and Micha was sitting there beside me.

He wispered; "I'm sorry I woke you, you looked so peaceful.  Are you mad at
me for getting in your bed?"

"No Micha, not really.  I guess I'm just a bit worried."

"Worried?  You?  But you are all grown up."

"Grown-ups can worry and be frightened too.  Those things don't stop when
you grow up, you just get more used to them."

"Is it me?  I mean, my dreams?"

"Oh no Micha, not you, not your dreams.  I am concerned about them but I
just have a lot of other things on my mind, decisions to make and I want
them to come out the best for us."  I was sleepy and that slipped out.  I
held my breath and waited to see if he missed it.  It was too dark to see
his face so I could only wait.

I heard him softly whisper, "Us ... us?" as if he was thinking it through.

Then I felt the water move and his arm slip across my chest as he pulled
himself close and brought his lips to my ear.  "John, I meant what I said
before.  I love you more than anything and wish I could stay with you
forever.  I'm sure you will make those decisions come out the best for us."

I was too distracted by the soft feel of his small body against mine to
respond right away.  I had automatically slipped my arm around him as he
drew himself close and now he took it as permission to move even closer.
He let his leg float up and over mine and nuzzled his face into my neck.
The water gave us buoyancy and we gently half lay, half floated together.

"I think that I would never have a bad dream spoil my sleep so long as you
held me."  He softly kissed my neck and my resolve began to crumble.

I wanted to get up and say it was time we went back to bed but I knew he
would get into mine.  I couldn't think.  My mind was racing but getting no
where.  I had that feeling again that I was missing something.  He lifted
his head up and kissed the underside of my chin.  As he did he pulled
himself closer to me using his leg for leverage.  He floated a little and
then settled down and rested against my hip.  He was aroused.

My resistance and good judgment slipped away into the hot waters and the
spring night.  All I could do was say to myself that I would only follow
his lead.  I would not initiate anything.  He moved up and over me.  His
face was even with mine but it was so dark I couldn't make out his
expression.  He came closer and his lips brushed my cheek.  I longed to let
passion rein but just slipped my other arm around him and he moved his lips
to mine.  It was a tender, soft and totally chaste kiss, void of experience
and seemingly full of innocence.  He pulled back just breaking it and then
he kissed me again and I kissed back but trying to keep it under control.
There was no opening of mouths or exploring tongues.  It was truly a sweet
and loving kiss.

I felt as well as heard a deep soft sigh as if years of pent up need was
being satisfied.  But then he wrapped his legs around me and held tight as
I felt his erection press into my stomach.  My own erection, pointing out,
slid up along the crevice of his soft bottom and gently moved in it as he
moved.  I had become extremely aroused and was, amazingly, very close to
cumming.  There was no passionate thrusting on his part, just warm but
urgent contact.  After a few moments of kissing and gently moving against
me, he went rigid and then grunted as his sexual reflexes took control and
he pressed against my stomach in orgasm.  I echoed his groan of release as
I was then shaken by my own.

Next: Chapter Five - Dreams can come true