Date: Wed, 22 Jul 2009 15:48:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: azkid61@yahoo.com
Subject: My Marty - Chapter 3

This is all fiction!!! This is a figment of your imagination . . . and
mine! And no one was hurt or maimed in the writing of this story. [Well,
maybe the editor a bit!]

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional gay story depicting a homosexual
relationship between a young man and a boy. It is intended for adult
readers only. All characters are fictional and in no way related to any
person or persons living or deceased. Any such perceived similarity is
purely coincidental.

IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE TO BE READING THIS STORY OR YOU DO NOT APPROVE
OF SUCH MATERIAL, PLEASE LEAVE.

This work is copyrighted (c) by the author and it may not be reproduced or
copied in any form without the specific written consent of the author. It
is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission
guidelines but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without
the written consent of the author.

			       *     *     *

This is the first time for me at writing a story of any kind.

I have to thank Nifty for letting me find such an amazing site. That has
made me feel like I'm not alone in this world of dreams, while not accepted
by closed-minded people.

Love does not come in a prepackaged form, defined by a few over religious
groups, or others, too blind to see the true meaning of the word "LOVE."

The one that has been the most helpful in my writing trials, and has been a
great inspiration to me in all my endeavors has been Matthew Templar, my
editor. Thank you, Matthew. You are the most unselfish and caring man I've
met. You put all others before yourself with all the things you do. Read
"Never Take Love for Granted" and you will see what kind of man he really
is.


				 Chapter 3

				"My Marty"


Marty's hand was on my leg. My heart skipped a beat and my face felt like
it was on fire. I looked at him and he looked up at me and smiled that
smile that could stop time. I should have taken his hand off my leg. I
jumped a little when he first touched me. I don't think he knew what he was
doing to me. It was not sexual at all. I think he just needed the feeling
of close contact with me. It sent chills up my spine, he felt so good.

I asked him why he liked me so much, since he had just met me and he didn't
even know me. He looked me in the eye with a sad look on his face that told
me this was going to be a serious answer. I stopped the truck and twisted
around to look him in those beautiful gray eyes of his.

"Why do you look so sad?"

"I thought you where mad at me," he said.

"For what, Marty?" I asked.  "There is nothing you could do to make me
upset with you. You are one special kid to me. Do you know that?"

"No," he said, still looking down at his knees.

So I reached over and put my hand under his chin and pulled his face up so
I could look in his eyes.

"So, why the sad look? Don't you want to go to the movies? Or would you
rather do something else?"

"No...It's, it's not that. I want to do whatever you want to do."

"Well, it's your night; you pick."

"Can we just go to your place?" he asked.

"Sure, but is that all that's bothering you?"

"Well, no. When I put my hand on your knee, you jumped. I thought you where
going to yell at me."

"Marty, I would never yell at you. You just startled me, that's all. And
since you brought that up, why do you like me so much?"

I could see the wheels turning in his eyes and he started to fidget a
bit. I just wanted to hug him with all my might. Then he looked at me and
said,

"You're the only grown up that's ever let me sleep with them, that didn't
want me to do things with them."

I let that sink in a minute, and thought to myself, 'God, what has been
going on with this little angel? What is he saying? Did I just hear him
right?!!'

I asked, "Marty, what are you talking about?"

I could see the tears start to well up in his eyes, and the shock on his
face told me to be very careful how I went about this. So I reached over
and pulled him into my chest. His head was just under my chin and I started
stroking his hair gently and rubbing his back.

"Marty, please tell me what you mean when you say, doing things. Did
someone make you do things to them? It's okay. I will never tell anybody
anything you don't want me to; and that's a promise."

"Okay, well, at the last apartments we lived at, there was this boy. He was
a lot older then me. I think he was 16 or 17. Well, he liked to do things
to me. I kinda liked it at first, but he wasn't nice to me after. You know,
like, he would suck my dick or I'd do him, and then he'd just leave. And
I'd see him out around the complex and he'd act like he didn't know me; or
tell me to get lost.  Or he would stay the night, babysitting Chris. Not
me; I'm too old for that."

He made it clear he was too old to have a babysitter. I had to stop myself
from laughing at the way he told me that.

"But I liked him holding me," Marty went on. "It felt warm and nice. But
one night he wanted to put his dick in my . . . you know . . . my butt. I
told him no way. He got mad and said he would tell my friends I was a fag
and that I wanted to do things to him."

That's it. That's all it took. I could feel the tears soaking my shirt and
my heart sunk lower then I'd ever felt it go. I could feel my own eyes
start to well up. I had to swallow my stomach back down my throat. I wanted
so much to take this little boy's pain away. All I could do was pull him in
closer to me. I felt him snuggling in closer too, at the same time.

I knew that our closeness helped. I could feel his sobbing slow down a
bit. I just held him like that for what seemed to be hours. But was only
minutes. He finally slowed his breathing and had his arms around me,
pulling on me, trying to mold himself to me.

"Look, Marty, you don't ever have to do things you don't want to. And the
fag thing is just a word. Do you think you're gay? Do you even know what
that word means?

"No. I think it means homo, or I like boys."

"Okay. Do you think you are gay?" I asked him.

"I don't know. I don't like girls. And in gym I like to look at all the
other boys in the shower."

"Well, that doesn't make you gay," I said.

"Yeah, but I get a boner after looking at them, and my stomach gets all
funny like. And when I'm in the tub at home, I get a boner and play with
myself and think about the boys in gym."

"Okay. So if you are gay, does that mean that you aren't normal?"

"Would you hate me if I was gay?" he asked with a look of panic on his
face.

"Oh, God no, Marty. How could I hate such a good looking and smart boy like
you? Besides, I've never told anybody this, but I'm going to tell only
you. That's how special I think you are to me. I'm gay."

Shit! He backed off me with a grin a mile wide, looked me right in the eye
and said,

"I knew it! I knew you liked boys like me! I could see it in your eyes when
you would look at me all the time."

Then he put his arms around my neck and squeezed so tight I couldn't
breath.

"Mar--ty! Marty, I c-can't breathe!!" I choked out.

He let go with a look of shock on his face. I reached out and pulled him
back into me and he giggled and said, "I'm sorry, Wade. I didn't mean to
choke you."

"That's okay, buddy; I know. So what do you say we get on the way?  You
still just want to go to my place or do something else?"

He grinned like a cat that just ate the canary. It made the blood rush out
of my head and down to the next head without me realizing it.

"Can we still just go to your place? I just want to be with you, if that's
okay?"

My heart soared so high, that I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. There
I was, just five months out of the army, had a fairly good job, had the
truck of my dreams and money in the bank from a large settlement from Uncle
Sam. And the most beautiful boy, that my world was about to revolve around.
I was there!!

We got to my apartment shortly after 8:30 that night. I was not the least
bit tired; neither was Marty. We got out of the truck and started walking
through the complex. He was by my side and he reached up for my hand. There
was that jolt of electricity again, coursing through my heart. The touch of
his hand and the smile on his face was beyond heaven to me.

We walked in the door and Marty stopped cold in his tracks. I forgot all
about Syliss, my Queensland dingo. He was part Queensland heeler and part
dingo, born without a tail, and he had two different colored eyes; one blue
and one gray.

He was my best friend in the world.

He ran to greet me, as always. Syliss stopped short of us and sniffed
Marty's foot. This would be a test for Marty. Syliss did not like other
people at all. He wasn't vicious; just didn't trust people.

Marty just grabbed my arm, looking at Syliss with a little fear in his
eyes. I told Marty,

"This is Syliss. He's my best friend. He won't bite, unless I tell him to."

Marty looked at me in a flash with his eyes big as 50 cent pieces. I
reached for his hand that was clamped to my arm like a vice and said,

"Marty, I would never do that to you. He's just checking you out, to see if
you're a friend or not.

Marty choked out, "I hope I am."

I had to laugh at his statement.

"Of course you are," I said. And then Syliss did something I've never seen
him do to anybody else I've known. He started licking Marty's other
hand. At that moment I knew this was the most special boy I knew.

And I knew, at that moment, my heart was his to have forever.


End of chapter 3


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