Micah and Me Copyright© 2014 by Simon Campbell The following is a work of fiction. It contains graphic depictions of consensual sex between an adult male and a teenage boy. It exists for entertainment purposes only and should not be construed as a primer for acceptable behavior. As much as I would like the events in this story to be true, they are not. Thanks to my intrepid beta readers (M & T) for their mad editing skills and invaluable suggestions. Please show Nifty some love with a generous donation. Feedback is always welcome. Drop me a note with your thoughts, constructive criticism, or ideas to micah.parker@live.com. The more you write, the more I'll write. ;) I'm also on AIM/MSN (micah.parker@live.com), Google Talk (simonwritesgood@gmail.com), and Yahoo! Messenger (ridethaskater). Author's Note: Just like Nifty can't survive without your donations, Nifty Authors can't survive without your feedback. If you're enjoying my little tale, please drop me a note and let me know (even if you've written before). You wouldn't believe how encouraging it is to hear from my readers. It won't cost you a penny, and it just might make my day. I'll keep writing if you do. ;) Chapter Seven I slept more peacefully that night than I had in a very long time. Apparently, thinking I was in love agreed with me. Oh, hell, who was I kidding? There was no thinking about it. I was most definitely in love. Most surprising was the realization of said fact didn't send me running for the nearest bottle of Xanax. I'd come a long way in the last twenty-four hours. If something like this had hit me any sooner, like only a few days earlier, I'd most likely be curled up in a corner somewhere in the fetal position. That is not growth measured in mere baby steps, mind you, but giant-sized leaps of improvement. All those years I'd spent in therapy and on medication had been for naught. It turns out all I really needed was to fall in love. Amazing! For all intents and purposes, I should've been terrified. This was a dangerous path I'd chosen to walk, one that almost certainly could end with unhappiness, but I didn't seem to care. This was either a great stride in my own personal mental health, or stupidity of the highest order. Whichever it ultimately turned out to be, I was determined to see it through to its conclusion. I was rolling the dice in a pretty high stakes game with the odds dead set against me. It was time, however, to take a chance on something bigger than myself. That something, or rather someone, just happened to be Micah. He was worth the risk, and so was my happiness. A long, hard (and, yes, peaceful) sleep was exactly what I'd needed, and I awoke that morning feeling rested and refreshed, if not a little confused. It had been quite some time since I'd woken up next to someone, and it took me a few brief seconds to remember exactly who it was lying beside me. When my eyes shifted down to that unruly mop of blond hair on top of the head that rested against my shoulder, a smile came to my face. Micah. I swear I almost pinched myself to make sure it all hadn't been a dream, because it really was too good to be true. It would be very easy for someone in my position to brag about something like this. What man on the planet wouldn't feel proud of himself for waking up next to someone less than half his age? The reason I didn't brag was because the majority of those men only got to do so because they'd paid for the privilege, either because they were sugar daddies or because they were paying by the hour. My someone was there because he wanted to be. Even with my first three novels being resold to a publisher, I was the furthest thing from wealthy. Assuming the yet unwritten fourth novel was accepted and successful, I would still only be a little better off than your typical schmoe with a nine-to-five job. I would still have to pay the mortgage on my forty-something year old house, drive my late model SUV, and worry about funding a retirement. Sugar daddy? Hell, I could barely afford to be a Splenda daddy. That was why I wouldn't brag, because I was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. Micah knew, even at fourteen, that I had nothing more to offer him than love, and he seemed to want me anyway. I never thought that I would ever find love, much less with a teenage boy. Perhaps this was proof that God did have a sense of humor. Either that or I was the victim of a very sick cosmic joke. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who needed rest. Micah still seemed to be fast sleep. I don't think either one of us moved the entire night. He was lying on his side, pressed tightly against me. His right hand rested on my chest; his right leg was draped over mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. My lover had a boner. Maybe that meant he was dreaming of me. I felt my own cock harden at the thought. I leaned over and gently kissed the top of his head. He stirred. "Mmm." "Morning, Punky," I said, giving his body a squeeze. "Good morning," he replied with a yawn. "Did I wake you?" "No. I've been up for a little while. I didn't want to wake you." "Aww, you should've said something." He shook his head. "It was so nice waking up next to you, I didn't want to move." "It was nice waking up next to you, too." I made a move to get out of bed, but he wrapped his arm around me. "Nooooo!" he whined. "Let's stay in bed all day." I laughed. "I'd love to, Punky, but we've both got stuff to do." A quick look at the clock revealed it was eight-thirty. "We really should get up, buddy," I added. "Come on, Simon, just a little while longer." His hand moved to my crotch and began massaging my bulge. "I'll make it worth your while." I let out a moan as he continued to work my dick. "You make a pretty convincing argument," I said. "Maybe a few more minutes wouldn't hurt." He planted a kiss on my chest and laughed. "You're so easy." "In all fairness," I replied, "you make it easy to be easy." "Perv." He let go of my cock, pushed himself up, and rose to his knees. I looked up at him and couldn't help but laugh. His shaggy mop of hair stuck out in all directions. This boy and bed head had a close, personal relationship. "What's so funny?" he asked. "Love the hair." His hands went immediately to his hair and tried to tame the rat's nest. He then flipped his head back and forth a few times. "Better?" "Not much, no," I said, still laughing. He pointed down at me and tried to look serious. "Mock me not, manwhore!" That made me laugh even harder. This kid was a character. "Silence!" he yelled, but started laughing himself. "Just get naked already." He pulled down his undies and scrambled out of them. He then gave me a 'what the hell are you waiting for' look, so I lifted my ass from the mattress and pulled down my own briefs. He grabbed them, guided them down my legs, and then tossed them to the floor. Micah just stood there for a moment on his knees, his eyes taking in the length of my body with a licentious gaze. When his eyes stopped and focused on my crotch, his mouth formed a wicked grin. He apparently liked what he saw. "Somebody's happy to see me." "Always," I replied with a smile of my own. He climbed over and straddled my body, plopping his fine ass on my thighs, just below my crotch. He took my dick in his hand and began jacking it. I let out a sharp hiss of air from my lungs. "Fuck," I moaned. "I like your cock, Simon." "Mmm," I replied. "My cock says to tell you the feeling is quite mutual." He giggled and let go of me long enough to take hold of his own dick and press it up against mine. Using both hands, he began jacking them both in tandem. He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head to one side. He looked beautiful sitting there, with his eyes closed and his head askew. His gorgeous pale body glowed brightly from the morning sun that shone through the picture window. I really needed to close those blinds. While my own book of love wasn't filled with numerous erotic tales of sexual conquest, I'd been around the block enough to say these times with Micah ranked at the very top of all my experiences. The difference? I was in love with him – and he seemingly with me – and that made it all the more special. My lover continued his assault on our cocks, his hands moving with breakneck speed. It felt incredible, our shafts pressed together, moving in unison towards an impending climax. I wasn't sure I would last much longer. I closed my eyes and my head tilted back, my body preparing itself for a joyous, happy ending. This orgasm, my first of the day, was going to be huge. Aching to discharge their load, I could almost hear my balls crying out for relief. "Shit, Micah," I said, barely able to find breath for the words. "I'm so close." I glanced back up at him. He arched his back; his hands wrenched our shafts with an almost mechanical precision. He thrust his hips forward and his head fell back. He let out a primal scream as his body spasmed with ecstasy. "Oh, fuck!" Ribbons of boy come erupted from his cock, one stream hitting him directly on his mouth. He opened his lips and gave himself a taste. The rest of his load landed from his neck all the way down to his pubes. What little remained inside his dick oozed out and dripped down between our shafts. Micah uncoupled our cocks, but kept hold of mine, which he continued jerking with a reckless and desperate ferocity, using his own come as a lubricant. That was enough to send me right over the edge. "Fuck, Micah," I screamed. "Unnnggghhh!" My dick exploded, shooting my load all over my chest and stomach. Micah slowed his hand and looked directly into my eyes. That shock of hair fell back over his face. He flipped it away and smiled at me. "That was kinda hot, huh?" he said. "Hell, yeah," I replied, returning the smile. "Though I wish you'd let me get you off. I'd have been more than happy to do it." He cocked his head, which caused his hair to hang sideways; he eyed me lustfully with those gorgeous blue peepers of his. "I got carried away," he said. "Besides, now you owe me another orgasm." I laughed. "Sexy and sneaky. That's a dangerous combination." He giggled. "Geez, we made a mess." We'd made a huge mess. Both our torsos were covered in sticky, white come. I nodded. "We need a shower." Before he even spoke, I knew what he was going to say. "Together?" he asked hopefully. "Sure." "Yay!" he said, hopping to his feet and jumping off the bed. Oh, to have that much energy again! "Hurry up, manwhore!" he called out as he ran into my bathroom. I got up from the bed and followed him. He had already opened the shower stall, turned on the water, and stepped back outside. While we waited for it to get warm, I grabbed us both a big, fluffy towel and a washcloth. I hung both towels on a rack just outside the shower stall and stepped inside, just as a nice bank of steam began to form. Micah stepped behind me and closed the door. One of the first things I'd done when I'd bought the house off my parents was remodel the bathroom. Since I really had no need for a massive walk-in closet, I'd used most of that space to expand the master bath, replacing the standard-sized tub/shower combo with a full-size whirlpool tub and a massive separate walk-in shower. Even with the two of us inside, we had plenty of room to move around. I placed both washcloths on the ledge that held my shampoo, body wash, and various other items. I then tested the water with my hand and adjusted it down from 'third-degree burn' scalding to 'just right'. I turned to face Micah, who suddenly seemed a little shy. "Is something wrong?" I asked. "Is the water too hot?" He shook his head. "No, I've just never showered with anyone before." After everything he and I had already done together, this is what he was choosing to be shy about? It was a little strange, yet totally adorable. "You were all for it a minute ago," I said, holding out my hand to him. "Come here." Micah took my hand and walked over to me. I took him into my arms and hugged him gently. It was then I was reminded of the reason for our shower – we were still sticky with come. It was sort of sexy a few moments ago, before we were glued together. Now? Not so much. "Ya know," I began, "when you marched into my room yesterday morning – naked as the day you were born – I didn't think you were afraid of anything." He buried his face into my chest and began to sob. "Hey…wait," I said, holding him tightly. "Micah?" He responded by wrapping his arms around me and held on for dear life. He mumbled some words I couldn't understand through the sobs. I held him for a few more moments and then gently pushed him away. I took his chin in my hand and pushed his face upward so I could look him in the eye. "Tell me what's wrong, buddy." "I'm not—I'm not—" he tried to say. "Come on now, little man," I said softly. "Try and calm down for me, okay?" He nodded, but continued to cry. "Take a deep breath and settle down for me." "Okay," he said. He took a few breaths and seemed to be a little better. It broke my heart to see him upset. I hoped to God that it wasn't something I'd done or said. Of course, this was exactly why I never should have slept with him in the first place. He'd been in my clutches for a single day and I'd already scarred him for life. Awesome. "You good to talk now?" He nodded. "What's up?" "I'm not afraid," he said, matter-of-factly. "Alright," I replied, trying desperately to read his face. I certainly didn't want to rush him, but I was dying to find out what was wrong. "I think it just hit me." What?! What just hit you?! "Okay, tell me," I said, as patiently as possible. "That I—" he began, "That I love you." Oh, boy, here we go! A number of emotions hit me at once, so powerful that they just about knocked me on my ass. I knew, however, that I had to appear in control, for Micah's sake. My time for processing could wait until later. I stooped down to my knees so he wouldn't have to look up at me. It struck me, as I did, what a strange place we had ended up to have this conversation. "You said—" I began, searching for the right words. "You said last night that you thought you loved me. Can you tell me what you meant by that? Did you mean you love me like you'd love a friend, or maybe an uncle?" – or, God forbid, a father? – "Or did you mean something else?" "Something else." "Something more?" He nodded. "Like romantic love?" I asked. "Yeah." Wow! This was a heavy conversation! Thank God for the tankless hot water heater. "Okay, Micah, and please don't get mad at me for asking, but I have to know. Are you sure about that? Because a lot of times when you're young—" "I'm not a kid!" he protested. "I know, buddy. I know that. You didn't let me finish. Sometimes when you're a teenager, you can feel some pretty strong emotions that feel a whole lot like love. Trust me when I say I've been there. It might have been a hundred years ago, but I was there." That brought a smile to his face. "I just want to make sure you're certain about what it is you're feeling, and I don't just mean about you being in love with me. Micah, if you're not sure about the things we've done together, you need to tell me. You're in control of this, little man. Not me, you. If you want to stop, we'll stop. I won't be mad, okay?" He nodded again. "Are you—" I began, "—okay with what we've done?" "Yes," he said. "As long as you're sure, buddy. I've mostly tried to let you take the lead so far because I don't know what you're comfortable with doing. If I get carried away and do something you don't like, you be sure to tell me. It's like I said before, you're in control." "I understand." "Good," I said. "Now, do you want me to get out of here so you can shower by yourself?" "No, I want you to stay." "You're sure? He sighed. "I said I wanted you to stay, perv. Geez!" I stared at him in wonder. He certainly rebounded quickly. A minute ago he was in tears and now he was cracking wise. "Aye, Captain," I replied, as I stood up and stepped into the falling water, letting it splash over my head and down my body. "Simon?" "Yeah?" I grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squirted a bit of it into my hand. It didn't take much for my buzz cut. I handed the bottle to Micah and rubbed the shampoo into my hair. I rinsed the suds away and stepped out of the stream so he could wet his hair. "Have you ever been in love?" he asked just before the water soaked his head and his hair covered almost his entire face. "Only once," I replied, rubbing some conditioner into my hair. He flipped the wet hair up away from his face and looked up at me. He seemed surprised at my answer. "Just one time?" "Yep," I said, rinsing the conditioner from my hair. "I've only ever loved one person." He worked the shampoo in his hair into a lather. "But you're—" "I’m forty-two," I interrupted, before he could say the next word. "I'm not old." He smirked. "Whatever, grandpa." Micah stepped back under the water to rinse his hair. When all the lather was gone, I reached over and turned the hot water faucet off, causing ice-cold water to rain down upon him. He let out a girlish shriek and jumped out from under the falling spray. I laughed hysterically as I turned the hot water back on. "You scream like a girl." "Ass!" he said, jumping back under the hot water. He was trying to act all hurt, but I could see the beginnings of a smile. "That's for calling me 'grandpa', you little shit." I handed him the bottle of conditioner and he squirted some into his hand. He set the bottle down on the ledge and gave me the finger. "Nice," I said, as I applied some shower gel to a wash cloth. He smiled as he worked the conditioner into his hair. "So tell me about this one person you fell in love with." I shook my head as I washed myself. "Oh, you don't want to hear about him." "Sure, I do," he said, forming his conditioner-soaked hair into a faux-hawk. "Goofball," I said, stepping back under the water to rinse the soap from my body. "What was so special about this guy that you fell in love with him?" He shoved me out of the way so he could rinse his hair. As he did, I squirted a generous amount of body wash into my hand and began working it into a lather. When he stepped out from under the water, I took note of how undeniably perfect he was. From head to toe, this boy was a gift from the gods. He was absolutely gorgeous. I got down on my knees in front of him, reached up, and gently placed my soapy hands on his chest. I lovingly began massaging the lather into his soft, pale skin. My hands moved over his pecs, paying extra attention to his small nipples, and then up under his arms, where no hair had yet grown. I glanced down at his boyhood, which had fallen flaccid while we showered, to see it hardening quickly. He was enjoying the attention. I applied some more gel to my hands and worked it into his stomach. When my hands reached his sides, he flinched. He was extremely ticklish. "This boy I love," I said, working some more gel into one of his arms, and then the other. "He's pretty damn special. So special, in fact, it took me a long time to find him." My soapy hands moved down to his pubic area and gently massaged the lather into the downy yellow hair. Purposefully ignoring his dick, my hands moved to his left thigh, and then down his leg to his adorable foot. I looked up and locked eyes with him. "He's smart, funny, beautiful," I applied some more body wash and began working it into his right foot, then up his leg to his thigh, "and kind of a smart ass, but that makes me love him even more." He smiled at me, leaned over, and kissed me hard on the mouth. Our lips opened and our tongues danced delightfully together. My soapy hand reached from his thigh to his ball sack and gently massaged it. "Mmm," he moaned, our mouths still pressed together. My hand moved behind his balls and traced a path to his pucker. I gently probed at it with my fingers. He jumped a little and broke our kiss. "Sorry," I said, jerking my hand away. "Did I go too far?" He shook his head. "No. You just caught me by surprise. It felt good." "Turn around," I said. As he turned, I squirted some more body wash into my hand and worked it into a lather. I reached up and began massaging it into his shoulders, down his back, over the lovely mounds of flesh that made up his ass, and then down his legs. I grabbed a clean washcloth, wet it, and applied some more shower gel. I placed my hand on his left butt cheek and carefully cleaned his ass, making sure to clean his hole by gently probing it with the cloth. He gasped. "You want me to stop?" "Nuh – no," he said. "Okay, then relax for me and bend over." He bent over and placed his hands against the wall for support. I probed his hole again with the washcloth and encountered less resistance. I was able to move a little further inside to make sure he was good and clean. I put down the cloth and reached my hands inside his cheeks. I gently spread his hole with my fingers, leaned my face in, and began probing his pucker with my tongue. His body jerked in surprise. "Fuck, Simon!" he moaned. "Oh god!" I inhaled the lovely smell of shower gel and feral boy as my tongue continued to pleasure him. "Fuuuccckkk!" he hissed. This was my first time ever doing this, but I assumed from his reaction that I was doing it right. He continued to moan as I pushed deeper into him. "Mmm, Simon," he cooed. I withdrew from him and wrapped my left arm around his waist. "Stand up straight," I said. He did so and I reached around and grabbed his hard cock in my right hand. "Ooo!" he said, leaning back into me. I began jerking his boy cock hard and fast. He responded by thrusting forward in rhythm with me. "Oh, fuck, Simon!" he screamed. "Fuuuccckkk!" His entire body tensed against me as he shot several loads of come onto the shower wall. "Shit," he said, practically collapsing backwards into my arm. "Damn, that was so hot." I let go of his boyhood and turned him back around to face me. He smiled down at me. "I love you, Simon. I mean it." "I love you, too, Punky," I replied. "More than you know. Now finish rinsing off and let's get out of here before my next water bill is higher than my mortgage payment." While he rinsed the soap from his body, I stood up and cleaned his jizz from the wall with a washcloth. When he was done rinsing, he turned off the faucet. I opened the shower door and grabbed a towel for him. He took it and began drying off. I picked up the other towel and began drying myself. "You okay, buddy?" "Yes," he said with a smile. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped over to me. He opened his arms and gave me a big hug. "Thanks," he said. "Anytime, kiddo," I replied. "Now go get dressed and we'll do something about breakfast. Don't forget to brush your teeth." "You too, perv," Micah shot back. "Who knows where your mouth's been?" I tried to tickle him but he pulled away and walked out of the bathroom. "We're even, by the way," I called after him, referring to the owed orgasm. "Whatever, manwhore," he replied as he stepped out into the hallway. I finished drying off and brushed my teeth. Since it was Saturday, and I forewent shaving on the weekends, my grooming ritual for the day was complete. I put on some deodorant and cologne and stepped into the bedroom to get dressed. I could hear the hair dryer going in the guest bathroom as I fished some fresh undies from the drawer and put them on. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was nine-forty-five. As soon as I was dressed – jeans and a t-shirt, of course – I heard a phone ring. I looked around the room to find the source of the sound and finally traced it to Micah's skinny jeans, which were still lying on my floor. I picked them up and pulled the cell from his pocket. The screen displayed the name 'PARKER' and the same picture Micah had shown me last night. The phone slipped from my hand and I inadvertently hit the answer button as I caught it. "Shit!" I said. "Hello?" a squeaky adolescent voice inquired. Apparently, I had accidentally turned on the speakerphone as well. "Hey, assface! Are you there?" Charming. I held up the phone. "Hello?" "It's about fucking time," the voice chastised. "Where the hell are you? I've been knocking on your door for like ten minutes. Mom's starting to get pissed!" I was beginning to see where Micah might have picked up his foul language problem. "Umm, hi," I said. "Parker, right? This is Simon. Sorry, I answered Micah's phone by mistake." "Yeah, this is—" he began. "Wait, are you neighbor Simon?" My eyebrow raised. "That would be me, yes." "Ohhhhh," he said with a knowing chuckle, as if that explained the mysteries of the universe. I wasn't sure what that was about, unless Micah had mentioned me. If he had, what exactly had he told Parker? Fuck! Then, something occurred to me. "Did you just say you were at Micah's house?" He sighed, like this was the most boring conversation ever. "Yeah, I was supposed to spend the weekend at his place because my Mom says it's either that or she volunteers me for The Hunger Games. Did assface forget about me?" It sounded like Parker was a handful. No wonder his mom needed a break! "Look,"I said. "Assface…err, Micah can't come to the phone. Come to the white house next door and I'll explain what's going on." "Okay," he said. Before he hung up, he screamed, "Next door, Mom!" I disconnected the call and immediately began to panic. What the hell was I going to do with Micah and Parker? You really need someone to answer that question? Oh, don't even go there with me! It's just like you to not see the bright side. What bright side?! Two hot, sexy boys for the price of one! Yeah, more like two counts of child molestation for the price of one! Don't be such a girl. Life just handed you a winning lottery ticket. Or a 'go directly to jail' card! Pull the stick out of your ass, dude. Assuming Parker would even want to— The doorbell rang. Cha – ching! Jackpot! If only anti-psychotics were sold over-the-counter! I ran out of my bedroom and straight to the guest bath. Micah was standing at the counter messing with his hair. He was wearing a black vintage Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of Star Wars boxer-briefs. I'd never known anyone to coordinate their outerwear with their underwear. "Dude," he said to my reflection in the mirror. "Where's the fire?" "Red alert," I said. "Parker and his mom are at the front door. Put some pants on and get your ass down there." I rushed out of the room before he could answer. "What's Park doing here?" I heard him ask as I made a beeline for the stairs. The doorbell rang several times in a row as I took the stairs three at a time, nearly tripping and falling on my ass as I did so. Just as I reached the front door, I heard the bell ring a few more times. "Hey, assface!" Parker screamed from the other side. "Open up!" A female voice spoke up. "Parker, for the love of—" I opened the door and tried my best to put on a 'nope, nothing to see here' face. Parker stood there, looking infinitely cuter than his picture, with a smart ass smirk on his face. He wore a blue Phineas & Ferb t-shirt that had seen better days, dark gray cargo shorts that weren't much better off, and pair of black flip-flops. His blond hair – which was a shade darker than Micah's, but not quite as long – hung just below his eyebrows. His mom looked to be a few years younger than I was, and somewhat pretty in a 'holy crap, why did I ever give birth' sort of way. The expression on her face said it all, like she'd already figured out how to kill Parker and dispose of his body, but she hadn't yet made it to Home Depot to buy the plastic sheeting and lime. Something told me that no jury in their right mind would ever convict her. "Hi," I said, trying to put on a comforting smile. "You must be Parker and—" "Wow, nothing gets passed you, huh?" Parker interrupted. "Where's shit-for-brains?" Parker's mom smacked him on the back of the head. "Oww!" he said. "Geez, Mom!" "Park, I swear to—" she stopped and gave me an exasperated smile. "Please excuse my son. I swear I don't remember taking drugs during the pregnancy, but—" She held out her hand. "I'm Laura Dobson. You must be Simon. Kim's said nothing but nice things about you." I shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Laura. Kim's mom passed away last night and she had to go out of town. I'm looking after Micah while she's gone. She obviously forgot about Parker coming over this weekend because she didn't mention it." "I'm sorry to hear about her mom. I had no idea," she said. "How is she—?" Micah came barreling down the stairs. "Hi, Aunt Laura! Hey, Park!" "Hi, sweetie," Laura said, and then turned back to me. "Simon, I hate to ask this of you, but I made planss for this weekend that I can't easily break. Could I leave Parker with you?" She paused. "Gee, I must sound like the worst mother in the world. I swear I'm not in the habit of leaving my son with total strangers, but I really need a break. At this point, it's either leave him with you or sell him to the circus." "Thanks, Mom," Parker said. "I love you, too." I wasn't sure how I could say no, despite my own misgivings at having another hot teenage boy in the house. He was thirteen, so he was obviously going to be horny, which meant he and Micah were most likely going to get their freak on. Part of me was afraid Micah was going to try to drag me into it; the other part hoped he would. Micah chimed in before I could answer her. "Simon's cool, Aunt Laura. I've been here since yesterday morning and he's managed to keep me alive so far." I put my arm around Micah's shoulders. "Thank you, Micah, for that glowing endorsement. Of course he can stay, Laura. It's no problem at all." "Oh, thank you," she said, as if I'd just given her a million dollars. "It's nice to finally meet you, by the way. Kim's mentioned more than a few times what a great friend you've been to her and Micah. If she trusts you, so can I." She turned to Parker. "Parker, go to the car and get your stuff." "Okay, Mom," he replied. "Come on, assface." He and Micah tore off to the car. Laura just shook her head. "I'm sorry about Parker. He's really a good kid, but I didn't sign on to be a single parent. I just wish his dad cared enough to come around every so often." "I'm sorry. It must be tough." She sighed. "Yeah, but you don't need to hear about my problems." "It's okay. Really." While we traded contact info, the boys returned to the front porch with Parker's things. Laura leaned over and kissed her son's head. "Please be good, Parker." "Mooommm," he whined, pulling away from her. "Parker!" "Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Thank you," Laura said. "Simon, if he gives you any trouble, you have my permission to beat him with a stick." I laughed. "I’m sure it won't come to that." To be honest, I wasn't so sure. "Thanks again, Simon," she said. "Bye, boys." "Bye, Mom," Parker said. "Bye, Aunt Laura!" Micah added. She started to walk down the sidewalk and turned. "I'll pick him up mid-afternoon tomorrow, Simon." I heard something in her voice that made me doubt she was coming back at all. "You—you are coming back, right?" She gave a nervous laugh, knowing I'd read her mind. "Am I that transparent? Don't worry, I'll be back." "Have a good time," I said. "Come on, guys, let's go inside. We stepped into the foyer and I shut the door. Here I was, alone with two gorgeous teenage boys. One I was madly in love with, the other I was afraid I might have to kill. It was going to be one hell of a weekend. "Micah," I said, "would you take Parker's stuff upstairs, please? Then we'll have some breakfast." "Okay, Simon," he replied. "Have you already eaten, Parker?" "Yeah, but I'm still kinda hungry." Parker watched his cousin climb the stairs. When Micah made it to the top and disappeared down the hallway, Parker looked at me and smirked. "What?" I asked curiously, almost afraid to know what was on his mind. "Micah told me about you," he said. Shit! "Did he now?" "Yep," he replied, eyeing me up and down. This kid was trouble. With a capital 'T', and that rhymed with 'P', and that stood for 'Parker'. "And what did he say?" "Enough," he said, with a devious smile. Then, he added, "You're kinda hot for an old guy." Fuck, fuck, fuck! "Err, thanks," I said uncomfortably. "I think." He took a step towards me, leaned in close, and looked up in my eyes. "You fucked him yet?" he asked, much like someone might ask for the time. "Uhh, I'm sorry – what?" I'd heard him correctly the first time, but the audacity of the question floored me so much that I needed to hear it again. "Micah," he replied. "Have you fucked him yet?" I stood there in shock, not knowing how to answer him. I hadn't, of course, but I was afraid that by denying it I'd implicate myself in the things we had done. Parker just continued to smirk as Micah came tearing back down the stairs. Yep, this weekend was going to be something else. This is not the end. There's more Micah and Me coming your way! Don't give up on me! :) Remember, your comments are appreciated. The more notes I receive, the more I'm inclined to keep writing. Drop me a line at micah.parker@live.com to let me know what you think. Many thanks to those who've written so far.