Lucky Find


A man and boy story, written once again in the first person by both characters.

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"You need a bit of a clean up; bathroom's upstairs. I'll nuke something for you to eat while you're shifting some off the dirt." I made it sound as offhand as I could, he didn't need a `bit of a clean up', he needed a full scale valeting!

Hi shrugged, half-scowled, and grumbled his way upstairs.

Less than an hour ago he'd been in a shop doorway at the top of Whiteladies Road, sitting hunched in what has become the classic `abused boy' position, but was, in this instance, an `it's the middle of November, bleeding cold and drizzling and I got nowhere to go' position.

Homeless people were not completely uncommon in Bristol, shop doorways often had an occupant at night, but this one had looked out of the ordinary. He seemed young for a start, a teenage boy, and there are not too many of them in shop doorways on Whiteladies Road at half past midnight in the middle of November.

"Missed your bus?" I said; perhaps not the nicest thing to say, but accosting teenage boys at any time of the day or night can be a potentially dangerous thing to do.

"Fuck off," was the reply, which, in itself, was quite a good start; his voice confirmed that he was a teenage boy and that he was in that shop doorway because he had nowhere else to be.

"Fine, suit yourself," I shrugged, "But if you want to fuck off with me, I can find you somewhere better than a Chemist's doorway  to spend the night."

`Bet you fucking can!' I thought to meself, `Your bleedin' bed!' I looks up at him, getting' ready to tell him to fuck off again, cos I knows what sorta blokes chats up boys when they finds 'em like what I is, but he din't seem like a perv, not that I know any pervs so how would I know what one looked like, an' I was fucking cold, so I sorta thinks a bit, an' when he just walks off, not trying to chat me up or nothing, I follows him, like, an' when he gets to his car, I says, "No funny stuff, alright?" an' I gets in his car.

I know it were a stupid thing to do, but the next person to see me was probably gonna be a copper, an' that meant I get carted off to a Police Station and handed over to the bleeding Social Services, an' that I did not want!

He don't say nothing to me when we's in the car, just that he lives the other side of Bath, an' he'd drop me back in Bristol in the morning, an' he don't try to touch me up or nothing, so praps he weren't a perv.

We gets to wherever it is he lives, fucked if I know where, I ain't never been outa Bristol, so it could have been Timbuktu for all I knew. So I goes upstairs to his bathroom to get cleaned up a bit, me face was a right mess cos I'd been snivelling an' crying a bit, hadn't I, an' I din't want him seeing that cos he were bound to wanna know why and call the Social or something.

So, when I's decent like, I goes down again an' he shoves this plate of steaming hot stew at me an' tells me to get me face round it, an' cos I's well starving, I does just that.

He definitely was a teenage boy, one that I guessed at being fourteen or fifteen, now I could see him properly and not just from the street lighting of Whiteladies Road. Even in that dim sodium lighting I could see he's been crying, probably from the cold plus a touch of desperation was my guess, but he'd made a fair effort at getting rid of the evidence of that, though his eyes were still a bit puffy.

One thing was certain, and that was that he was hungry! He wolfed down the bowl of stew, and guzzled greedily at the hot chocolate I'd made him.

He seemed a decent enough looking lad, his hair was in need of a wash, but once washed I guessed it would reveal itself as being light brown, not quite dirty blond, but getting there. Facially he was nothing special, and nothing the opposite of special, just boy; smooth cheeked and quite healthy looking. Whatever he was doing in a Chemist's doorway on Whiteladies Road at half past midnight on a cold, drizzly November night, he hadn't been in the habit of spending many nights there.

It was difficult to get any precise details because he hadn't taken his padded hoody off, but he didn't seem either overweight or starved skinny, just a normal mid-teen boy.

Exactly the sort of boy I am rather partial to, which was why I'd stopped in the first place and suggested I take him with me in the second place. I had no expectations of indulging in his mid-teen boy charms, but he was a mid-teen boy and I do like mid-teen boys.

I wouldn't mind him, though; nothing special, but he did have that `good to suck' look about him. Mind you, anything mid-teen and not fat could be classed as good to suck.

I could feel him giving me the eye while I were eating, not that I expected anything else. No way had he picked me up outa the goodness of his heart, blokes don't do that. Bloke goes out of his way to be good to a kid, then it's an odds on cert that he got the kid's arse in mind, so I knew he were gonna make a move for me bum at some point.

Ain't happened to me yet, mind, I ain't never been picked up, an, I spose in a way, I ain't been picked up now, has I? Like it were my choice to go with him, he never made me or nothing, never even tried to get me to go with him, an' I spose that were a bit odd really, cos if he were after me arse he shoulda made some sorta effort, shouldn't he?

An' even now he hadn't made no move. Never said I needed a shower an' he'd dry me clothes, so he could get me starkers, just told me to go an' have a clean up, an' not even bleeding gone upstairs with me, so he did have me a bit puzzled, like.

He were checking me out though; I mean like I'm fourteen an' a bit, so I been checked out a few times, ain't I. Blokes can't keep their eyes off boys can they, so course I been checked out. Don't normally mean nothing, just some guy what ain't getting any wondering if you'd be any good, that's all. They never does nothing about it, just has a look. Don't bother me none, why should it?

But I ain't normally sitting in a bloke's house when he checks me out, am I, so course, I's wondering what comes next.

Thing is, nothing comes next. He don't even bleeding ask me what I were doing in a shop doorway at half midnight, an' he shoulda asked that, shouldn't he? Shoulda shown some sort of interest, some bleeding concern, but fucking nothing!

That never made me feel great, did it! Like I weren't depressed enough anyway, an' he couldn't even be bothered to show a bit of sympathy like.

I couldn't take no more, I drinks the last of the hot chocolate what he'd made for me, slams the mug down near hard enough to break it, an' snarls at him,

"Don't you even wanna fucking know why I were there?"

"Why should I? Nothing to do with me, is it? You presumably had some reason for being in a shop doorway at gone midnight in the middle of November, but that's your affair, not mine."

"Oh, fucking thanks," I snarled, "Big deal, great fucking help!"

"Saw you there, thought you looked a shade down, and spending a cold night in a shop doorway was not going to do you any good, so  I asked you if you'd missed your bus. You told me to fuck off."

"Like there were a bus stop there?"

"Of course not," I had to grin, "It was just something to say."

"Well, you said it." That didn't make any sense, I knew that, but I had to say something so I said that.

"And you told me to fuck off."

"Yeah, well, I thought you was after trying to get me, didn't I."

"Yes, I suppose you did. You did say `no funny stuff,' so I suppose that thought had occurred to you."

It was a ridiculous conversation, but at least the boy was talking, and that was better than a sullen silence. He had a nice voice as well, that `finished breaking but not yet anywhere near adult' timbre that is so nice, so teenage, so adolescent. And so sexy as well. Sexy if you're into teenage boys, that is, so for me, it was most definitely sexy.

"Yeah, well." I nearly let a grin escape cos he were being so, I dunno what he were being, but he were being it, but I weren't in no mood for grinning, so I kept me scowl in place so he din't get no wrong ideas.

"Don't you wanna know what I was doing there?" He should have asked, he really should have, but he was just like the rest, didn't give a fuck about me.

Of course I wanted to know what he was doing in a shop doorway in the middle of a November night, but there'd be no way he'd tell me if I asked, so I let him get so desperate for me to ask he saved me the bother.

"You're about to tell me, so don't let me stop you."

"I was on me way to the bridge, if you must know, gonna chuck meself off it."

That was serious! If he meant it then that was very serious, and he did give every indication of meaning it. Sympathy would be wrong, wouldn't work.

"So what were you doing in a shop doorway at the top of Whiteladies Road? Ten, fifteen minute walk to the bridge at the most."

"Dark, weren't it. Wouldn't be able to see if the tide were in, would I."

`Don't laugh', I told myself firmly, `Whatever you do, do not laugh'.

`Yeah, I can see the problem," I nodded, "If the tide's out you'd just lob yourself two hundred feet down into ooze, mud and silt, and half that muck is shit. Not a good way to go, buried twenty feet down in shit. Tell you what," I said cheerfully, "After breakfast we can take a drive there and see if the tide's in. If it's not, then we can go back later. How's that sound?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I'd just said I were gonna do meself in, an' he were saying he'd drive me to the bridge in the morning! Was he fucking mad?

"One question, though. Have you had any sex yet?" The look on his face was priceless, his mouth doing a pretty good goldfish imitation. "No, I guess not. Better make sure you have a good wank in the morning then."

"You fucking what?"

"Well, I don't have any girls around, and funny stuff's out of the question for you, so a good wank is the best thing I can suggest. Be a shame to top yourself with full balls."

I didn't know what to do. He was bleeding crazy! What difference would it make if me balls were full or empty? Then, course, I sees the funny side of it, an' I gets this big grin on me face an' I tells him he's fucking crazy an' all he does is shrug, "Not so crazy that I want to lob myself off Clifton Suspension Bridge," he says, "Tide in or out."

Well, him being stupid about it all gets me to realise he ain't the stupid one, I am. Yeah, I am as depressed as fuck an' I really was on me way to the bridge, but I spose I were having second thoughts like, an' that were why I sat down in that doorway. Thank fuck I did! An' thank fuck some crazy bloke found me, and not the cops an' all.

"Might give it a miss in the morning," I says, bit sheepish like.

"What, the bridge or the wank?"

"Fuck off," I grins at him, cos he may be crazy, but he's quite funny as well, an' like he's just talked me out of wanting to top meself by telling me to have a wank! Like how random is that?

I asks him where he wants me to kip, an' course, I were expecting him to say in his bed, an' to be honest, I reckon I would have done an' all, but he points to a couch in his living room an' gets me a duvet, an' tells me to just crash out.

I could have taken him to bed then, I was pretty sure of that; his relief at being talked out of what he had in mind was so obvious, I think I could have got him to give all he had without a hint of a mental struggle. That would have been taking advantage of him, though, and I don't take advantage of boys. I bed the delightful creatures without hesitation if they want to be bedded, I've seduced a few as well, chatted them out of their knickers and into wanting to be bedded, but this was different; he was in no state to put up even a token fight to protect his virginity, and it's no fun that way.

I found a duvet for him, which seemed to surprise him a bit, and that in itself was interesting, I had the feeling he was expecting alternative sleeping arrangements, so perhaps I should have taken him upstairs after all.

I has this well weird dream an' I wakes with a bone, but considering that dream I spose that weren't too surprising. I were on the bridge an' it were dark an' I ain't got a clue if the tide's in or not, but I's gonna jump anyway. An', like, I takes me clothes off, the whole lot, and puts `em in a neat pile, cos I were thinking it'd be a shame to ruin them by having them on when I jumps into deep shit, cos I wouldn't be able to wear them again if I did. I climbs over the railings, an' I hopes there ain't no ship down there when I jumps cos landing on a ship would bloody hurt, an' then off I goes, but I don't get all the way down, does I, cos he comes shooting out the air like bleeding Superman an' catches me about half way down.

`Watch were you puts yer `ands,' I tells him when he scoops me out the air, `Cos I ain't got no clothes on,' an' he says he knows an' he likes me better this way, an' then I bleeding wakes up with a bloody great lump in me jeans.

So what were that all about?

I spose it were cos he'd told me to have a wank before I jumped an' that had sorta got stuck in me head, though why that shoulda given me a hard on I dunno. But I does think he probly would like me better if I din't have no clothes on, cos I swear the looks he gave me were them sort of looks.

"Breakfast," I yelled at about half past ten in the morning. I hadn't gone in the lounge to check on him, I felt that a concerned indifference was probably the best approach; excessive concern would either scare him off or lead him to think I was after his bits, and whilst I would obviously have liked to have a go at his bits I wasn't actually after them. Just because I like boys it doesn't mean I compulsively shag every one I see.

He was more than just a bit bleary eyed when he made his way into the kitchen, fully dressed of course, but at least he wasn't wearing that quilted hoody, so there was a bit more boy shape to look at.

Apart from the fact that he wasn't presenting himself at his sartorial best after obviously sleeping in everything he was wearing, and a long soak in the bath would do him no harm at all,  a thick sweater and slightly baggy jeans weren't quite enough to conceal that there was boy inside them; about five feet eight of teenage slender but nicely constructed boy.

His nostrils twitched at the smell of frying bacon that was to go with the sausage, fried eggs and baked beans on toast, that I was preparing for him.

"Orange juice, on the table," I said deliberately not looking at him – concerned indifference again – "I'm having coffee, you want some?"

"What the fuck?" I says, looking at the bleeding massive fry up what he plonks on the table.

"Need a good breakfast inside you before we head for the bridge," I kept my face straight, so he didn't think I was taking the piss.

"Fuck off," I says, "Said I were gonna give that a miss, din't I."

I couldn't help grinning though, cos it  were so bleeding daft, me scoffing a fucking great breakfast an' saying I decided not to do meself in today; I mean, you couldn't make it up, could you!

"Any plans on what you want to do instead?" I asked, casually forking half a sausage into my mouth. "I don't mind running you home if you want. I was going to take you into Bristol anyway, to the bridge."

"Stop going on about that bleeding bridge, will you," an' I gave a fried egg a vicious stab so the yolk squirted everywhere, "Told you I changed me mind about that, an' I don't wanna go home neither. That's why I were gonna jump in the first place if you must know."

"Shit at home, is it?" Pretty feeble, I know, but all I could think of.

"You ain't got no fucking idea!" I says, an' now I got started I told him the bleeding lot. "Ain't like I gets beaten up or abused in any way, like, it's just like I don't bleeding exist! Me mother couldn't give a shit about me, an' I means that. Don't think she's said a word to me for months! An' there ain't no bloke around what clouts me all the time or nothing, wouldn't be so bad if there were; at least he'd have to notice me to clout me, wouldn't he."

"School?" I prompted, "Mates?"

" They gave up on me ages ago, probly think I moved away somewhere by now." I forks in some baked beans cos I ain't never had no breakfast like this before, an' no way was I gonna leave none.

"So what do you do all day?" I tried to make it sound casual, not really interested, just saying something for the sake of saying something.

"Nothing, really. Goes up the Heights sometimes if the weather's decent, but gotta be careful up there, cos that's where blokes goes when they's on the look out for boys, ain't it."

The park at the top of Clifton did have that reputation, I'd cruised it a time or two myself, but with no success. Perhaps I should give it another try.

"An' that's it in'it? Like no-one wants me, no-one likes me, no fucker even hates me. Like I don't fucking exist. So I thinks I may as well not fucking exist."

"So what made you change your mind?" Still keeping well away from sympathy; sympathy, I was sure, he would see as false; lack of interest was his idea of reality, so I stayed as casual as I could.

It were so fucking daft so I told him, an' I couldn't help grinning either, cos even I knew it were fucking daft.

"You fucking did," I says, "Telling me to have a wank first."

"That's a shade random," I smiled with him, "Don't think that's in the approved manual for plod when they are trying to get someone not to jump off a bridge."

"Bet it's not," I giggles, picturing this copper telling some guy to have a wank before he jumped. "Ain't had one though, so spose I can't do a jump, can I."

"Certainly not till you've had one," I agreed, and shared a laugh with him.

This was progress, though, he was laughing now. And enjoying his breakfast as well, looking more like a teenage boy should look.

"Promise you won't laugh if I tells you something well odd?" I were starting to reckon he weren't too bad for a bloke, like, he hadn't been tying to tell me I were being stupid wanting to do meself in, or say it couldn't be as bad as I thought it were or nothing, all what he'd done were to feed me, give us a place to kip, not tried to bugger about with me an' made me laugh.

"Promise I won't laugh."

"I has this well weird dream last night," I says, an' I tells him all about it, an' he don't laugh at me or nothing. I left out the bit about waking up with a boner, but I tells him all the rest. "Would you?" I asks, though fuck knows why I did, "You know, like me better without me clothes on?"

That one came right out of the blue! If I was Freud, or a psychologist with Freudian inclinations, his dream was easy to interpret. He strips naked and is rescued by a super hero; easy stuff – boy needs man and boy is willing to give man what man wants if man likes him, but hands off if man doesn't like him, if all man wants is boy.

Careful now, Rex, get this wrong and boy does one; get this right and boy is as good as in your bed.

"Not an easy one to answer," I say, and indeed, it wasn't! Would I like you because you are naked, or do I already like you but would like you even more if you were naked, or do I like you anyway and you being naked would be a bonus, but not an important one? Or even, don't I like you yet, but would like you if you were naked?

Would you being naked make any difference to me liking you or not liking you?"

I'd said `naked' five times; I didn't want him to stop thinking `naked'!

"Dunno," I says when I thinks I's worked out what he's talking about, an' course, what I does get is me being starkers would make some sort of difference. Well, course it would if all he were after were me arse, like, but he ain't made it sound as though he is after me arse, cos if he were, he'd have said straight off that he'd like me more without me clothes on, wouldn't he?

"What about the last one?" I asks, "You know, make a difference, like?"

"Wouldn't make any difference to me liking you or not. Sure, I'd like seeing you naked, of course I would, you're a boy and I make no secret of the fact that I rather like boys, so yes, I'd enjoy seeing you naked, but seeing you naked wouldn't make me like you as a person."

I has a bit of a think about that, cos it weren't what I expected him to say, so I asks about him praps liking me a bit, cos, after all he had fed me an' stuff an' he never had to do that, an' if me being naked would get him to like me a bit more.

A psychologist would have a field day with him, no mistake about that!

"I don't even know your name yet," I gave him a small smile, "And you're asking me if I'd prefer you dressed or undressed? One thing is dead sure; you need a mate, a person you can talk to, someone who'll listen; possibly, though you can tell me to fuck off about this bit, someone who'll cuddle you when you're feeling down."

Could be pushing things too far, too fast, but worth the gamble, I felt.

He weren't daft after all, he spotted just what I did want, spotted it though I ain't even spotted it meself till he said it. "You?" I asks.

"What I should do," I said carefully, "Is get on the phone to the Law, tell them I've got you and that you're safe and sound. Of course, they'll want to know why I didn't phone them last night, why I've kept a teenage boy in my house overnight and fed him supper and breakfast. They'll almost certainly class that as grooming you, and if I tell them you didn't do a jump because I told you to have a wank first, then that will go down as me making lewd and indecent suggestions to you, and at the very best, I'll get let off with a caution and be on the Sex Offenders Register for the next fifty years.

What I am going to do is to ask you what you want, and I'm going to ask you that because, quite honestly, you intrigue me and I am starting to quite like you."

"They can't do that!" I says, but, course, I knows they can, an' thinking about it, me being here all night, us talking about me wanking an' being starkers, they pretty certainly will!

"Ain't got nowhere else to go," I says, trying to make it sound like I ain't too keen on it like, "An' I spose I likes you a bit, well, you have stopped me doing meself in, an' you've fed me an' stuff, an' you ain't told me I'm a bleeding idiot or nothing, so I spose I wouldn't mind hanging around for a few days if you can put up with me, like."

"You're a boy, I like boys, so I guess I can manage with having you around for a bit. Provided," I said, mock stern, "You agree to having a wank before hand if you do get another urge to do a jump."

Course, I cracks up then don't I, "Yeah, promise," I sniggers, an' for some reason, adds, "Might even have one or two without thinking about jumping as well."

An' he cracks up as well when I says that, an' then, bugger me, but he's giving me a cuddle an' I ain't trying to get away or nothing, an' it were sorta like in me dream like, when he swooped out the sky an' held me, but cos I'd got me clothes on I din't tell him to mind where he put his hands. "Me name's Luke," I tells him.


I has most of the day to meself, he has to do a bit of work an' he says he reckons I needs me own space for a bit, but he's always around an' just yell if I needs him, so it weren't nothing like just being ignored like what I didn't exist.

I sleeps on the couch again, but I does get me sweater an' jeans off this time, an' I does have a wank an' all. An' that were weird, cos I din't mean to, but I did find meself wondering what it'd be like if he were doing the wanking for me, and that were well strange, cos I ain't never had them sorts of thoughts before. I mean, I's had plenty of thoughts about NOT doing stuff with a bloke, like when I were up in the park on the Downs an' blokes looked at me wondering if I were up for it like, but I ain't never had no thoughts about DOING it.

I mean, it ain't like I've got nothing against blokes who fancies boys, I mean, why shouldn't they? An' it never bothered me none when I got eyed up on the Downs, cos it were obvious I shoulda been in school, an' I weren't, so I spose they had a right to wonder if I were available, like.

But now I were actually wondering what it'd be like. I mean, I know I'd have given him what he wanted that first night if he'd asked for it, or even if he'd just taken it, but I weren't really meself then, so I didn't reckon that counted. I weren't so depressed now, like, an' I deffo weren't planning on doing meself in no more, so what the fuck were I doing wondering what it'd be like to get done by him?

Thing is, I sorta knew the answer, din't I. I were sorta half wanting him to make a move on me, but I din't know if that's cos I wanted him to make a move or cos I thought it'd get him to want me around for a bit longer, but whatever it was, I were getting pretty sure I wouldn't be telling him to fuck off if he tried something on.

I don't have another wank in the morning, I spose I's really more of a night time wanker than a morning one, an' when I gets up he plonks another bloody great fry up down in front of me, an' I gives him a well big smile, cos I's starting to feel like a bleeding prince, ain't I, what with him getting me munchies all the time an' giving me the odd cuddle now and again.

Anyway, he goes out to do some shopping or something an' he tells me I can use his computer if I want to play some games on it like, so course I does.

I thinks I'll just have a butchers at what he's got on there an' he ain't got no passwords or nothing so it don't take me long to see what turns him on! Bugger me, but he had loads of stuff what he shouldn't have, an' it were all boys! Well some were boys what was getting done by blokes, an' fuck me, but did I learn a lot or what!

Course I knew blokes did boys' cocks, sucked them an' stuff, an' course they fucked them an' all, but some of the other stuff had me staring in amazement!

I spose kissing weren't all that surprising, though I never realised blokes would wanna snog with boys, but it were stuff like licking an' playing with boys' tits what took me by surprise, an' I couldn't believe that anyone would wanna lick a boy's arse! But, bugger me, they did! An' the thing about it were that it got me bone bleedin' hard looking at it!

What the fuck? Getting a boner looking at a kid having his arse licked?

An' that weren't all, were it? Oh no, there was bleeding hundreds of pics of boys what was all about my age, an' loads of them he played with Photoshop on. You gets this pic of a kid an' then beside it is the same pic but he's Photoshopped out the kid's pubes!

Course, I zooms them an' he ain't just done their pubes, has he, no, he's done their bleeding legs an' all! Not a single fucking hair on them!

Well, that does it, don't it. I got me jeans an' pants round me ankles an' I'm tossing like crazy, cos they is so fucking sexy, all smooth where they shouldn't be smooth!

Well, there weren't no doubt he were into boys, were there, an' no doubt that what he liked were boys without any hair on them. Not young kids like, kids my sorta age what should have hair but he'd got rid of it.

Thing was, I were thinking it were all so bleeding sexy, like me what had never had a thought about cock before were wanking meself stupid gawking at pics of naked boys!

An' there were that dream an' all, like why the fuck should I take me clothes off? An' now why was I having these dirty thoughts about making meself like them boys in his pics? Like getting rid of me hairs an' everything?

Trouble was, it would have been okay, like, if I could just think I were losing it a bit, but it didn't feel like that, it were more like I were bleeding finding it!

Even after I spunked up, when I shoulda stopped thinking dirty thoughts, I fucking didn't! I just had this thing in me head telling me to go on, try it, see what it feels like, see what you looks like when you ain't got no hairs, so I bleeding did.

I could smell me keks now they was round me ankles, and I got a whiff of meself an' all, an' bugger me, but did I need a bath or what! I knows he ain't gonna mind if I has one, so I runs one an' has a look round the bathroom an' finds his razor. It were one of them ones with half a dozen blades an' works on a battery, an' it has me pubes off, no trouble.

I din't have much more than a bit of fuzz on me legs, but that goes an' all, an' I does inside me crack as best as I can, though fuck knows why I does that, but I does.

That were it, weren't it. If he were gonna get round to getting at me, then he were gonna find what he liked when me clothes came off!

An' course, it dawns on me that were why I done it. Yer, it did feel well sexy, but I were hoping he'd go for me, weren't I, an' why the fuck should I be hoping that?

No way was I putting me smelly clothes back on, so I grabs a pale blue bath robe what's hanging in the bathroom, an' uses that, an' that's all what I's got on when he comes back.

I was getting to quite like Luke; he'd started smiling a bit, and he did have a very nice smile, and, naturally, as I started liking him a bit I started fancying him more than just a bit.

Only his third day with me, but even in that short time there were definite signs of improvement. Signs that he was coming to life.

I don't know much, but I do know serious depression does not disappear overnight, and certainly not without some medical intervention, and any signs of recovery could go in a flash if something happened that convinced him he was still nothing, a non-person, of no importance to anyone. Despite the undeniable fact that I was having some serious thoughts about just what he would look like without his clothes on, I was sure that making any move yet would send him back into the pit.

I had deliberately avoided showing him too much in the way of affection, the cuddles we had were of his volition rather than at my instigation; the worst thing that could happen was for him to think I was just after his cock, not after him, but his cock and his arse.

Of course I wanted his cock, and if I was to get his cock then his arse would be next; he was a well constructed, decent looking boy of the ideal age, so of course I wanted his cock and his arse, but to make having them worthwhile they had to be part of him, not simply the only bits of him he thought I wanted.

The odd thing was, I knew, because we'd talked about it, that he'd already thought about letting me have his bits, because that had seemed to him to be a way of hanging on to the only person he felt had taken any interest at all in him, his dream of superman me rescuing naked him made that very clear, but his dream also had naked him saying to superman me, `mind where you put your hands', which was also a pretty clear indication that, though he was prepared to give, he didn't actually want to.

The task in hand was to get him to change his mind about that; having a man who wanted to shag him because he was a boy well worth shagging would do wonders for his state of mind; being a nothing, just another fuck for someone, would probably get him on the suspension bridge for real.

I let him have free range of my computer for a morning, suggesting he might want to play some games, but, as he was a fourteen year old boy, I was sure he'd find other things on there, things that would leave him in absolutely no doubt about what I felt about boys.

It was another `reverse seduction' move; what I hoped to achieve was for Luke to be left in no doubt at all that boys were my thing, and for him to start trying to work out why, if boys were so obviously my thing and he was a boy, why wasn't he `my thing'?

It may lead him to getting into my bed, it may lead to him heading out the front door, never to return, but the choice would be his and his alone.

I was, though, a shade surprised when I returned home, to find him in my terry bath robe. From the look of his hair, he'd treated himself to at least a shower, and probably a full soaking bath, he had that `after bath' pink glow about him.

"Hope you don't mind," he muttered, "Smelt meself, so I grabbed a bath."

I did not mind! No-one has a bath before jumping off a bridge, so bridge jumping was not the foremost thought in his mind right now, a concept that was confirmed when he said his clothes were too manky to put on again, so he'd just grabbed my bath robe as he had nothing else to cover himself with.

He did look more than just a bit nice, wearing only a pale blue bath robe, and, from what he'd just said about manky clothes, it was a good bet that it was only a bath robe he was wearing.

"Grab your stuff and shove it in the machine," I said, "Probably be about a week before I get round to washing it, though."

It took him a moment or two to process that before he looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

"You look quite nice in that," I grinned, "So washing may be a bit delayed."

It dawned on him that I'd just said he looked quite nice, that I'd given him some sort of compliment, that he was visible, a real person, just possibly a person of some importance to someone.

Took me a bit, but eventually I cottons on to what he's saying, that he thinks I looks quite nice, an' that weren't cos he knew what I were like under me bath robe, cos he din't know nothing about what I'd done, but he liked the look of me even though I were all still covered up!

Then he grins when he says  he ain't washing me stuff for a week so I gotta wear this thing all the time, an' I knows he's being a bit sexy like cos he's obviously worked out I ain't got nothing on underneath, so I spose that turns him on a bit, an' I don't mind that it does, cos the bit what mattered in what he said were that he weren't gonna do me washing for a week, an' if he weren't gonna do it for a week it meant he were okay with having me around for a week, an' that were ace, an' I grins an' all an' tells him he's a cunt, but he knows I does it as a joke and we both has a big grin, an' I goes close to him so he can give me a cuddle if he wants.

I held him, not too close and not too tight, one hand on boy shoulder, one no lower than the middle of boy back, and he had his arms wrapped round me as well, and, let's be honest, boy cuddling is a very pleasant way of passing some time.

"Mmm, smell nice," I whispered into his hair, "Nice, fresh boy."

"Don't you like your boys stinky, then?" I sniggers into his chest.

"Prefer the freshly washed variety," I smiled and wanted to kiss him, but restrained that desire.

"Spose I better have a bath every day, then, for a week anyway."

"Only for a week?"

"You'll have washed me clothes by then, won't you."

"Not sure. I think the washing machine may be broken."

I freezes when he says that; he couldn't be saying he might want to keep me for longer than a week, could he? "Hope it is," I mumbles, more to meself than to him.

Was this a seduction advancement opportunity? Certainly worth testing anyway.

"You wouldn't want to spend longer than you had to with a middle-aged perv, would you?"

"Don't matter if you're a perv if you likes me. Don't have to like me lots, just a bit."

"Just a bit, I can manage," and I did move my hand on his back a little, not lower, just a gentle caress.

"Cos I'm a boy?"

"That helps, but not all boys are likable, even just a bit likable because they are boys."

"Know you're a perv. Don't care."

"Know you're a boy. Do care."

"You really like me? You know, just a bit, like?"

"Washing machine wouldn't be broken if I didn't."

I giggles a bit cos this were silly talk, but it were talk, an' no-one talks to me, silly or not cos I ain't worth talking to, but he were, so it were important talk, an' I's got this funny feeling in me tummy, cos though it's silly talk, it ain't silly at the same time.

An' it's like it's all mixed up in me head an' all; like I wants to tell him he can bum me if he wants, but at the same time I ain't at all sure I wants to be bummed. Like, I shaved off me pubes so he'll like what he sees when he gets round to seeing it, but I still ain't sure I wants him to see it an' I'm desperate for him to see it at the same time.

So I don't say nothing, just likes the feel of his hands on me shoulder an' back.

I could tell by the feel of him that there was something going on in Luke's mind, and that, for him, it was an important something. It wasn't all that difficult to hazard a guess as to what it was; he needed to feel liked and wanted, and that comment, `Don't matter if you are a perv if you likes me', was something of a giveaway. It translated roughly as, `you can have me if you likes me'; anything to stay feeling liked and wanted.

Not enough though; enough to get him into bed, but not enough to ensure that he would like being taken to bed.

I fed him a Chinese, stir fry and sweet and sour chicken. He said he'd never had Chinese before, but he gobbled the lot down without a pause and after that it was the sofa with a film.

It started off with Luke at one end and me not quite at the other, Luke with his legs stretched out giving me his ankles and about six inches of shin to look at. Not a huge amount, but it was uncovered Luke, so it was much more interesting than the film.

There were some little black hairs starting just above his ankles, not many, indeed so few and fine that there was a very good chance his thighs would still be nicely smooth, and smooth thighs are so important for proper boy enjoyment.

I made no secret of the fact that Luke's shins were far more interesting to me than the film and he caught me looking appreciatively several times, and gave me a little grin when he did.

I mentally cursed that I `m just over six feet compared with his five eight, if I'd been a bit shorter that bath robe would have been a bit shorter and there'd be an inch or two more boy skin to look at.

He were looking at me more than he were looking at the film, staring down at me feet an' it takes me a bit before I gets that it ain't me feet what he's staring at, but the little bit of me legs what's not covered by the robe thing. I wonders why the fuck he's doing that, I mean, what's there to look at in a kid's shins and ankles? Then it dawns on me that it's the only bit of me, apart from me hands and face, what ain't covered up, an' I thinks `Fuck me,' cos he must think I'm worth looking at or something if me ankles is doing it for him!

Course, that makes me feel a bit good, don't it, an' I thinks I gotta give him a bit more to look at, so I gets me legs up an' crosses them, an' course, that puts a bit more of me on show, an he can get a gawk at one of me knees now, an' bugger me, but do he gawk or what!

Fuck me, if he finds a bleeding knee a turn on, what's he gonna be like when he sees me cock?

It's gone all silly again now, cos the film's doing its thing on the telly, an' he's just looking at whatever bits of me he can see to look at, an' I'm watching him look at me an' neither of us is giving a fuck about the film now.

It's starting to get to me a bit now, cos it's bleeding obvious he fancies me, an' he ain't even trying to pretend he don't, but he ain't doing fuck all about it!

Course, then it smacks me in the face like a lump of wet fish; he ain't doing nothing cos he don't wanna do nothing what might upset me! So if he don't wanna do nothing what might upset me, he must bleeding like me enough to care about upsetting me, an' if he cares that much then he can have as bleeding much of me as he fucking wants!

Something stops me from making it too obvious what I's thinking though, that same `want to don't want to' thing what's doing me head in, but I still shifts about a bit like I'm trying to get more comfortable, an' finishes up loads closer to him an' with a bit more leg on show for him to look at.

He looks at me, not me leg, me face, an' I smiles at him an' he gives me a little smile back, a well nice little smile, like what I'd just done something to please him, an' I thinks, `sod it' an' goes the rest of the way so me head's resting on his shoulder.

I lifted an arm so he could get where he wanted to get, and wrapped round his slender shoulder when he'd got there. Having a boy cuddled into you is a wonderful feeling, the knowledge that the boy is submitting himself to your protection, your care, is a feeling as intense in its own way as the feeling when he finally submits his complete being to the invading might of your cock.

Luke wasn't at that point yet, but his snuggling in was a symbol of his readiness to head in that direction if he received the correct signals from me; he needed to be held now with affection, an affection that contained no threat to his still preserved virginity, but an affection that was palpable. He needed to believe he was liked, would be liked even if he did not discard his virginity. He believed he had never been liked, but he knew there were men who desired his body; wanting him and wanting his body were different things and now he was making an attempt to make sense in his mind of the possibility of combining the two.

His wriggles to get himself in exactly the right position – a position he must know by instinct alone – had let the bath robe slip a little more, expose a little more skin, expose a good several inches of thigh though never threatening to expose what he was not yet ready to expose. He knew that extra skin was now on view, but he made no effort to re-cover it, innocently confident that I would not compromise his innocence, though his every movement had proclaimed that part of his mind wanted to dispense with innocence altogether.

Nothing is said for a while, nothing needs to be said. I give his slender upper arm a very gentle squeeze, and whisper, "I'm not sure if that washing machine can be repaired."

I know what he means and snigger a bit. "You mean it'll probably take longer than a week?"

"Quite a lot longer."

"Long as a month?"

"I suspect it might be longer even than a month."

I felt like a bleeding cat what's just got lucky an' found a whole bowl full of bleeding cream! He were saying he fancied having me around for a whole month or even more! No bugger's wanted me around for as much as five fucking minutes before, an' he were saying he did, an' he ain't even got at me cock yet! Fucking ain't even tried to get at it, though I knows he's gagging to cos of the way he keeps looking at me, an' he ain't said he'd only keep me if I gives me cock either!

I pretends I got an itch on me foot an' scratches it with me toes, an' that makes a bit more robe thing slip off me leg so he's got a bit more of me to look at, an' he does look an' now I'm bleeding liking it that he's looking cos I's sure now he don't just fancy me, he bleeding likes me an' all!

Luke's left thigh was visible almost half way up now. He must have known that, but he made no move to cover it again, just left it there for me to look at. Oh, yes, it was there for me to look at, he'd known since we sat on the sofa that I was taking every opportunity to look at him, at the exposed bits of him, and he'd gradually given me more to look at.

I though of him as being innocent, and he was, but it was the innocence of an adolescent boy which is not really innocence at all. Sure, he was innocent in the sense that he was untouched, that I was very sure about, but not innocent in that he was well aware that he was wanted for touching; that knowledge or instinct or whatever, is inbuilt in adolescent boys, even in the ones who never recognise it. He still had a barrier to overcome before he could allow touching; the bit that men wanted to touch, the bit that boys touched for themselves, came with a society ordained warning notice attached to it. "For use with girls only," and it wasn't a girl who wanted to touch it, and it wasn't a girl he was thinking about having it touched by.

So he snuggled in close and showed me a bit more leg while he tried to work things out.

And very nice leg it was! All the correct slenderness of adolescent boy thigh, showing fuller because he had one leg crossed over the other, but the eye gripping element was the complete and utter smoothness of that thigh. From my eyes to his thigh was a distance of no more that three feet, and my very careful and thorough inspection revealed no hint of a hint of a hair anywhere. Luke's thighs were totally, utterly, cock-hardeningly smooth!

Yeah, he likes me, but he well fancies me an' all. I could almost feel his eyes on me leg an' I could almost see him dribbling when he sees I ain't got a hair on it. Oh, yeah, he likes his boys smooth!

Well, weren't a waste of time me shaving, then, I thinks to meself, an' course, I'd done that cos I wanted him to like what he were gonna get, though I ain't decided yet if he were gonna get it or not.

I means, I were actually loving it that he fancied me, that he couldn't get his eyes off the bits of me what was on show, but that weren't the same as letting him have the rest of me, was it.

"Nice leg, Luke," I smiled when he caught me staring again, which wasn't difficult for him to do because I was doing nothing else but stare.

"Glad you like it," I giggles without thinking, cos being told you got a nice leg by a bloke is a bit random like. Then I tells half me mind to shut the fuck up, an' I says, "Cuddle me proper if you wants to."

"Because the washing machine's not working?" which, of course, was code for `Because I like you and I want to have you around?'

"Yeah. If it's gonna take ages to mend."

Coded message received, decoded and reply sent, a reply that decoded as `If you ain't gonna dump me back in Bristol once you had me.'

"I think the spin dryer's buggered as well, so even if I did manage to get the washer going there's no way I could get your clothes dry at this time of year."


"Really and truly."

"Oh, fuck!" I says, cos it were too good to be true, an' I says that again when he gets his hand on me leg an' feels me a bit, not shoving that robe out the way so he can get at more of me, just feeling the bit what's on show, but that were enough to make that other bit of me mind shut up good an' proper!

"One thing, though," I says, cos now that bit of me mind had shut its mouth, the other bit were free to talk, "Is you gonna do all them things what I saw on your computer? You know, like kissing me an' playing with me tits an' licking me bum hole?"

"If I can't get the machines working."

"Ain't working now, is they." An' I sticks me face up so he can give me a kiss, an' it starts all soppy like, but it don't take long before me mouth's open an' me tongue's having a fight with his, an' his hand is going up under me robe now an' me cock's hurting cos it's so bleeding hard.

Kissing Luke was pure delight. He had no idea what to do to begin with, but he learned in seconds, his tongue ravishing my mouth as darkness drained from him. I very much doubt if sex with a man is an approved cure for depression in an underage boy, but it was working for Luke!

My hand slipped, unrestricted and unopposed up his smooth thigh till I reached the bone of his hip, such a sexy place on an adolescent boy, but, then, is there a place on an adolescent boy that is not sexy? A short move from there to a different bone, the bone on a boy that all men who adore boys delight in, and indeed, Luke had a bone to delight in!

My questing fingers encountered a teenage slenderness, and a teenage length that felt to be about five inches, later a ruler indicated five and a quarter, an impressive length for a boy of fourteen, complete with foreskin and incomplete with pubic hair.

Like his thighs, Luke's pubis had not a hair on it!

"Oh you beautiful boy!" I murmured with lust-filled appreciation when I encountered the smooth perfection of his adolescent glory.

"Done it for you," shy for the first time, but chuffed to bits that I'd got it right an' given him what he liked.

Having his hand on me cock was unbelievable, its been in me own hand a fair few times of course, but it ain't never felt nothing like this! Then I gets this sudden thought, an' I can't help it, I just bursts into a fit of giggles. Course, he wants to know what's so funny about him playing with me cock, an' I has to tell him,

"Just thinking if I hadn't told Superman to watch where he put his hands when he scooped me up, the rest of me dream might have been bleeding amazing," an' he has a giggle with me.

"Pity Superman's not here now," I grin at him and squeezed his cock, because teen boy cocks are meant to be gently squeezed and appreciated.

"He fucking is, though," an' I pushes meself into his hand so he ain't gonna make no mistake about what I wants now, "An' he can be as dirty with me as he wants," an' I gets me head up again so he can do some more snogging with me while he plays with me cock and balls.

I fondle his adolescent delights and stroke his beautiful shaved thighs, every touch of him just pure delight, an then I leave his wonderful flesh and gently pick up the belt of the bath robe he's wearing.

"If this comes undone," I warn him seriously, "It could be a couple of years at least before I can do any washing."

"Ain't gonna spend two years sleeping on a bleeding couch."

"True. And it is getting a bit late now," it was almost five in the afternoon, "So perhaps ии?"

"You wanna have a look at me first?" I dunno why, but it seemed important to me that I should show meself off to him, let him get a proper look at what he were gonna have, cos I'd shut that stupid bit of me mind up now, shut it up for good; I were gonna get done, and get done proper by a bloke what liked me.

I had this weird sorta thought, I dunno, praps it were more like a feeling than a thought, but somehow I sorta knows that this is what I's for, like being a boy for a bloke to have fun with. Not just any bloke, but him, the bloke what likes me, an' likes me even though he never had me yet so he ain't just liking me so he can get at me arse, cos he'd still like me even if he never got nowhere near me arse, an' that's why he can have me arse, an' anything else he wants an' all.

So I gets up an' stands in front of him an' I undoes the belt an' just gives a sorta shrug of me shoulders, an' cos the robe thing's way too big for me, it just slips off me shoulders an' I'm standing naked in front of him with me cock sticking straight out cos it's about as hard as it could ever get.

I knows I's got it right cos he just stares at me, an' it's fucking obvious he well likes what he's staring at, an' I feels all sorta warm an' happy like, cos he don't just like me, he fucking loves what I got to give him, an' I knows that cos he's bleeding eating me body with his eyes, ain't he.

An you know what? It feels fucking fab, standing there naked for him to gawk at, knowing he well likes what he's seeing cos what he's seeing is me, an' I can't wait for him to get me into bed now an' get started on me proper, an' I wants him to do a real proper Superman job on me an' all, not leave out none of the really dirty stuff before he sticks his cock up me bum.

I've had my fair share of boys in my bed and everyone has been different; some are in a bed with a man for the very first time, shy and eager at the same time; others know why they're there, mine is not the first bed they've been in and it won't be the last. Some have limits, some want everything, and the one thing they all have in common is that they're wonderful, beautiful, adolescent boys, human creatures designed for a man's pleasure.

Luke was different again; perhaps because he'd felt himself to be unwanted, unliked, unnoticed by anyone, and felt that to the point of despair and desperation, and now he'd found he was wanted, was liked, was noticed, was important, he'd leapt with teenage simplicity from one extreme to the other and he now couldn't give enough of himself to me, so, in return, I gave him everything he wished for.

He discovered what it felt like to have his armpits licked and kissed, his nipples licked and nibbled, his belly button washed with tongue, his thighs slavered over, his cock and balls sucked, and his hole invaded by tongue, and, when he was a gasping, panting, shivering wreck of a boy, what it was like to have his spunk sucked from him and eaten.

Drained and exhausted, he lay on his back, his legs drawn up, knees by his ears, and his tongue wet hole waiting for its first cock.

I've found that's the best way to take a boy for his first time, when he's too shattered for his body to put up much resistance, when a surfeit of pleasure has taken away any desire to keep his hole closed, and taken away the strength and unwanted will to resist penetration.

"I'll be as gentle as I can," I whispered to him, "It will hurt a bit at first."

"Don't fucking care," I says, smiling at him, an' I don't fucking care either, don't care how much it hurts. Me arse is his, an' though course I knows it's gonna hurt, cos his cock ain't a baby one, I knows I gotta have it up me, right up me, all the bleeding way up me, an' no matter how much it hurts me, it ain't gonna hurt him, an' it's him what counts, not me.

It does hurt! It hurts like crazy an' I has to bite me lip to stop from screaming out for him to stop, an' when I's managed to stop the scream I hisses at him to get on with it, get it up inside me cos that's where it belongs.

The hurt stops for a bit an' then it's back worse than before an' I does gasp that time, an' then, all of a sudden like, it goes different. Still hurts but it ain't just hurt now, there's something else an' all, an' I realises he's got it right in me, an' it feels all sorta weird, like I'm stuffed full inside, an' I has this little snigger cos I am bleeding stuffed full inside, I'm stuffed full of cock, an' it's his cock an' I fucking loves it, being stuffed full of his cock!


Luke gives a wicked little smile as he hoists his legs up and holds them there so his hole is ready for me to enter. Once I'm in he'll let them down, wrap them round my waist to hold me in place while I ride him, and he'll grin and smile at me all the time I'm inside him, and I'll lean forward so I can kiss him while I fuck him.

Only needs a little lube now, and I suppose that's fair enough as I've been fucking him for more than two and a half years now, and every fuck is at least as good as the fuck before, even though he's horribly legal now and just finished his GCSE exams.

We both know he's getting a bit old for me now, though of course, he keeps himself properly smooth for me, at sixteen and a half he's just about past his boy use by date, but we'll be fucking for a bit longer yet.

"So what's he like?" I ask while I'm riding him.

"You'd fucking love him," I grin. That's the best thing of all about having him for my man, we ain't got no secrets about what we likes an' what we wants. "He ain't fourteen yet, bout five four, fair hair an' blue eyes, just about four inches an' his spunk is fucking delicious."

"Fucked him yet?" I give a few extra hard thrusts just to make it clear what fucking is.

"Ain't had the chance, has I. He will, though, when we can gat it sorted."

"Bring him back here if you want. I'll stay out of the way."

"You'd have to," I grins, "Wouldn't be able to keep your hands off him if you saw him."

"That tasty is he?"

"Too fucking right he is!"

"Let me know when you got him organised and I'll make sure I'm not at home between half three and about nine."

"Fuck, yeah!" I clenches me arse round his cock cos I know he likes me doing that when we's chatting while we fucks. "Really wants to fuck a boy now," I says. I knows I's growing up a bit now, I ain't really a proper boy no more an' I been fancying boys meself for a bit now. "An' it's about time you went to Bristol, see what's around in shop doorways." I knew he really needed something younger than what I were now, an' I din't see why he shouldn't try to find something. Fuck me, but if he found another kid like he found me, then that kid would have all his birthdays an' Christmases come all at once!

"Don't see why you shouldn't," I says, "Not gonna mind if you finds one an' brings him here to live with us. I mean, I'm getting a bit past it now, ain't I."

"Tell you what, you bring yours back here, fuck him properly and when you've done that we'll take a trip into Bristol one night and see if there's anything in Whiteladies Road."

"Deal," I grins, "Never know, might get another lucky find. Now shag me proper, you dirty old cunt."