Hi there.
Story ideas can come from anywhere. This one came, as you might guess, from junk mail. I hope you like it.
NOTE: Even though the two guys in the first scene are both adults I assure you that this story falls solidly into the current category: Gay/Adult-Youth. It won't take long to get there, I promise.
Likewise with a few other gay adult men and one lesbian pair that show up later. They are peripheral characters and never have sex "on screen."
And hey, let's see those donations to Nifty. Everybody's gotta eat, including Internet hosting companies.
Comments are incredibly welcome, and I intend to answer everyone.
Trevor set down the final box of kitchen things and leaned against the counter, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Whew!" he said to the four walls. "It's like a sauna in here!"
He was glad no one was there to hear him talking to nobody but then he smiled at the absurdity of such a thought. If anyone were there to hear it then he wouldn't be talking to nobody, would he?
Trevor opened the ancient fridge and pulled out a beer, then thought better and put it back. He had already brought in all the boxes and small stuff but Marcus was coming as soon as he got off of work to help with the heavy lifting and Trevor wanted there to be a couple of beers left for when they were finished.
He smiled as he remembered his Dad's old joke:
A good friend will help you move.
Your best friend will help you move a body!
The small rented house came partially furnished but the bedroom was bare save for the two small nightstands he had already carried in. Waiting patiently in the U-Haul were his mattress, box spring and a massive oak dresser made by Amish craftsmen nearly a century ago.
He couldn't remember which box had the glassware so he bent to the faucet and slurped water straight from the tap. It was warm at first from standing in the pipes but at least it was wet.
From habit he went to turn the thermostat lower so the central air would come on but then remembered that this house had only window units, so he went to the one in the living room and twisted the knob toward the blue. Gratified when a whoosh of cool air hit him in the face, he went into the bedroom and started that unit too.
Trevor knew going into this move that there would be some lifestyle adjustments, many of them unwelcome, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. Now that he was alone he couldn't afford a sweet downtown condo anymore and this little old house was on-budget and convenient to shopping and all that shit. If things went according to plan he'd be able to move somewhere nicer when his lease ran out in a year, but for the time being he just had to suck it up.
I'm good at sucking, Trevor smirked to himself, but the joke didn't elevate his mood.
The kitchen was small but there was plenty of storage space and in half an hour all of the cooking and serving things he'd inherited from his Mom and her sister — his beloved Aunt Alice — were neatly put away. A lot of the stuff was pretty fru-fru for a young man's kitchen, like dish towels decorated with fluffy lambs and an avocado-green toaster with daisies painted all over it. However they were serviceable and free, plus they reminded him of his two favorite women on the planet.
Formerly on the planet. The entire older generation of the family was gone now due to a combination of Trevor's arrival late in his parents' lives and their sad family propensity for cancer. He reminded himself to be happy when he thought of them, as he had promised Aunt Alice he would.
With the kitchen squared away he attacked the two living room boxes, less than fifteen minute's work because even when he lived with Marcus they didn't decorate all that much and now he had only half of the stuff. There were a few family photos, his Mom's favorite lamp, a rather gaudy candy dish Aunt Alice once gave him as a joke, and the smooth, shiny stone shaped like Florida that Marcus found and gave to him when they were eleven.
He'd always cherished that rock and now more than ever.
He set the keepsakes out in his new living room, trying to be artistic about it but knowing it was probably futile. He frowned as he looked around, not very pleased with how it came out.
Trevor wasn't that kind of gay, the kind with impeccable taste who knows all about fashion and design and minces around all day proving it to everyone. Trevor was the kind of gay who seemed exactly like every other nice-looking, All-American young man you might see at Home Depot or wherever and never even imagine that he was queer.
Right up until he groped your junk.
"Knock knock," Marcus said from the door, letting himself in and earning a big smile from Trevor. Never once had Trevor laid eyes on Marcus without smiling.
"Hey man," Trevor said, pulling him into a bro-hug with exactly three firm pats on the back. "Thanks for doing this."
Marcus clapped his back in return. "No problem," he said, then leaned in and gave Trevor a quick kiss on the lips. Trevor hadn't been sure he would do that given the awkwardness of their situation but he took it as a good sign.
"Things are looking pretty ship-shape already," Marcus said, looking around with his hands on his hips. "I'm not even sure why I'm here."
"Perhaps you noticed the giant orange and white trailer hooked to my car," Trevor teased. "You know, the one you helped me load yesterday at the condo?"
"Oh yeah," Marcus said with his signature crooked smile. "I thought that looked familiar."
Trevor gestured to the room in general. "So what do you think?"
"I like the decor," Marcus said. "Early Shithole isn't it?"
Trevor laughed. "Come on, it's not that bad."
"No it isn't," Marcus conceded, grinning. "It's got a few miles on it but it's been kept up pretty well."
Trevor hesitated, then a bit haltingly asked, "When is Suzanne moving in?"
Marcus hesitated too.
"She brought a few things over this morning," he said. "Just what would fit in her car. The movers are there now."
"Well shit, man, what are you doing here then? I could have managed."
"You could've carried your Grandma's big-ass dresser in here by yourself?" Marcus scoffed. "I don't think so! Even with two of us we're gonna give ourselves hernias coming up those porch steps with it. That thing is like a small building!"
Trevor laughed. "Remember when we were six and you climbed right inside that big middle drawer and I closed you in?"
"Like I could forget! You left me in there for an hour!"
Trevor guffawed. "It couldn't have been that bad. You fell asleep!"
Marcus fondly smiled at the memory. "There was a nice fluffy sweater in there for a pillow," he said, "and it smelled like lavender."
Trevor couldn't stop his next comment, though he knew he should.
"I made it up to you, didn't I?"
Marcus' whole demeanor changed and he was silent for a few seconds. "Yeah, you did," he said in a subdued voice. "That was the first time, I think."
"Yeah," Trevor said. He wished he hadn't mentioned it.
"Listen Trev," Marcus said, a hand gently squeezing his shoulder, "Things are a little weird right now but I don't want us to drift apart. That's why I'm here. Of course you could manage the furniture, get somebody else to help you or whatever, but I needed you to know that I still love you and I always will."
"You kicked me out so your girlfriend could move in," Trevor said with less bitterness than he feared the statement might carry.
"She's gonna have my baby," Marcus said, "and she's gonna be my wife. We talked about this Trev. Babies change everything."
"Yeah," Trevor resignedly said and couldn't look at Marcus.
"I didn't mean to make you sad," Marcus soothed, pulling him into a hug. He kissed Trevor's cheek. "But I have to do this. I love Suzanne and I want to be a Dad."
"Yeah, I know," Trevor said, trying to enjoy the hug. "And for the record I don't hate Suzanne. Right this second I resent her just a tad, but she's a sweet girl and you guys are good together. And you're going to be an amazing Dad!"
Marcus kissed Trevor on the mouth, a pretty good one this time, then locked eyes with him and said, "Please don't pull away from me now. I love you and I need you in my life even if we can't be together anymore. You know Suzanne is cool with you. She knows all about us, how far back we go, and she's absolutely cool with all of it. She wants to be your best friend too!"
"Easy for the winner to be gracious," Trevor said and instantly regretted it.
"Don't think of it that way," Marcus urged. "She doesn't feel like she defeated you. This is just how things worked out."
"Yeah," Trevor said. He forced a smile as he wiped away one single tear and turned away. "Come on. Let's get those hernias before Urgent Care closes for the day."
Trevor had a hard time falling asleep. He hadn't slept alone for a long time, not even the night before, his last at the condo. He'd shared Marcus' bed because his was already in the U-Haul, and though they had joked all day about the historic farewell sex they would have it didn't happen. Both used the excuse of being tired from packing and having things to do in the morning but the truth was it was simply too weird. The boy he'd loved for his whole life was going straight and marrying a girl and there wasn't anything Trevor could do to stop it.
And he wouldn't stop it even if he could. He loved Marcus with all his heart and soul, had loved him since they were not long out of big-boy Pull-Ups. He wanted Marcus to be happy and if hetero life with Suzanne and a baby made him happy they by God Trevor was going to be happy for him too!
Still he couldn't stop the images from coming into his mind; Marcus beautifully nude in all his competitive swimmer glory, his sturdy six-inch cock standing straight in purple majesty. He'd sucked that cock a thousand times since it was two inches long and jutted out from a skinny 6-year-old body. He'd had a fair amount of just-for-fun sex with other boys as well, but to Trevor everything had always been about Marcus.
They had really hit their stride as a couple the summer before sixth grade. They had been trading blow jobs for five years already but things accelerated like a Tesla on a test-drive when Marcus came home from his family's vacation in Orlando. It was there that he'd found the rock and taken it as an omen that it was shaped just like the state he had found it in.
With great ceremony he'd presented it to Trevor as a token of his love, the first time that he'd expressed himself as an actual, romantic lover instead of a childhood best friend. Trevor instantly knew it was true, that Marcus was the one, and that very weekend on their welcome-home sleepover they had figured out how to get Marcus' stiff, hairless three inches into Trevor's tight but very willing ass.
He still didn't know how he thought to use Jergen's hand cream for lube.
Marcus was a real natural, somehow finding exactly the right position and getting fully, wonderfully inside with almost no pain for Trevor at all. On top of that he instinctively knew to thrust just hard enough to thrill Trevor to his core but not make the bed springs squeak.
Trevor lay beneath the boy he loved and concentrated on every exquisite sensation and every soft murmur in his ear. He didn't know how long Marcus fucked him but it was a good long time, and even then he was disappointed when the boy grunted in exhaustion and stopped, rolling away onto his back and gasping for air.
Trevor remembered the grimace on Marcus' face, how badly he needed his feeling — they didn't know the word cum yet. Despite the hand cream and his own excretions he had plunged his mouth down onto that beautiful, familiar cock and sucked his lover to a shattering dry orgasm.
Marcus was so depleted after that he fell quickly asleep and Trevor lay and watched him for a long time. He knew even then at 11 years old that his heart was no longer his own, fully gifted to this wonderful boy.
Thus began the Golden Age of Marcus and Trevor. They somehow became even closer, virtually inseparable. Weekend sleepovers became a matter of course and it wasn't long before "school nights" didn't even matter anymore. It was like the boys had two homes and two families, all four parents treating both of them as their own. Their clothes became communal, kept in whichever house they slept that night and used freely by both boys thanks to their luck of wearing the same size.
For the rest of Middle School they were unabashedly in love, after a while holding hands and even kissing right in front of their parents — though never more than that and never out in public. Their love was so obvious and so natural that even their fathers gave up resisting it. They were like one entity, something called "Marcus 'n' Trevor," and it just felt right to everyone.
But this idyll took a sharp left turn about a month into their high school career. One Friday midnight after an especially intense flip-fuck Trevor lay spooning Marcus on their sides, his cock still deeply buried inside his soul mate. He reveled in what may have been his very best, most satisfying orgasm ever, shooting what felt like a gallon of fresh teen cum into Marcus' twitching, clutching butt.
He would never forget slipping out and feeling the warm dribble of his own juice running down between them, or Marcus rolling into his arms and kissing him as deeply and passionately as he ever had. Pillow talk consisted mostly of thanking each other over and over and promising that their love would never die.
Then after a long silent cuddle Trevor heard the words he now looked back upon as the beginning of the end, though it would take a decade to finally play out.
"Trev, do you ever think about fooling around with girls?"
"Oh, hi," Trevor said as he uprooted a particularly ugly weed that had sprouted overnight next to the front walk. He had seen the pretty Black postal carrier once before in his three days on the block but that was from inside the house, through the bay window. She smiled a bright acknowledgment but didn't say anything.
"I'm Trevor," he said, adding as an afterthought, "Murphy. I moved in the other day. And you are?"
She looked surprised but pleasantly so.
"Elaine," she said, offering no last name. "You know, I've had this route going on three years and this is the first time anyone has introduced themselves. My Dad was a mail carrier for thirty years and knew all his customers by name, but I thought those days were over."
Trevor reddened a little. "Did I overstep? I just thought it was the polite thing to do."
"Oh no," she said. "It's nice, actually. Good to meet you, Trevor. Would you like me to put the mail through the slot or do you want to take it now?"
"I'll take it," he said with a smile and she handed over a small bundle. "I've gotten mail every day but I haven't had anything real yet. Just advertisements and stuff."
"Your streak is still alive I'm afraid," she chuckled. "Nothing there but junk. It can take a while for the change-of-address to go through and then you'll get a ton all at once."
"Phillip Anderson or Current Resident," Trevor read off the first label. "I guess he lived here before me."
"Apparently," Elaine said. "I don't remember exactly. We go by the address anyway. If it has this address on it I'll deliver it even if it's addressed to the Queen of Sheba."
Trevor shared a big smile with her. He thought they made a genuine connection, his first in the neighborhood.
"The landlord says this guy just disappeared in the middle of the night," Trevor said, hoping to prolong the conversation. "Left an envelope with the keys in it but no forwarding address or anything."
"People do all kinds of weird stuff, that's for sure," she said and turned to go. Trevor was disappointed but accepted that she had work to do.
"I'll see you around, Elaine," he called and she looked back with a cheeky smile.
"You know Trevor, customers also used to give tips at Christmas time," she said. "Just sayin'."
Trevor laughed and waved her goodbye, noting how her prominent booty filled out her tight gray uniform shorts.
Straight boys must love that, he mused, and turned back to the house.
Trevor's job as a proofreader of technical manuals let him work from home most days but he had to go into the office every Wednesday morning for a staff meeting. He didn't really want to be around people so soon after his breakup but surprisingly he found it actually helped.
Because he only saw his co-workers once a week only a few of them qualified even as "work-friends," and none as "real friends." He couldn't unburden himself to them with his grief and betrayal over Marcus but at least they were live humans to joke and eat donuts with. It was about the same level of intimacy he'd shared with Elaine in their three-minute sidewalk encounter but it was better than nothing.
When he got home there was a pile of mail on the floor under the mail slot and he anxiously gathered it up, but once again it was nothing but junk. He remembered what Elaine had said and resolved to be patient until the deluge poured in.
It didn't help that he hadn't heard a word from Marcus. The guy who called himself a lover for more than a decade had booted him out and didn't even check to see how he was doing. Of course they had just seen each other two days before and Marcus was undoubtedly busy getting Suzanne moved in and settled, and Trevor himself hadn't made a check-in call either. Still, it felt shitty.
He checked out the junk mail as he flipped through it: coupons and sale flyers all addressed to Phillip Anderson. Friggin' Phillip Anderson was a lot more popular around these parts than Trevor Murphy.
Most of the coupons went straight into the can. He had no need of roofers or landscapers but five dollars off on an oil change made the cut, as did a large one-topping pizza for $9.99 from a place he knew to be OK if not great. He figured two meals for ten bucks was worth it.
A post card said Phillip Anderson's subscription to Wired magazine was about to expire and it reminded Trevor to change his address with them too, because the Post Office does not automatically forward items mailed at the Periodical rate. Only First Class mail and higher gets forwarded.
So Phillip Anderson likes Wired, Trevor mused, which set him musing further on what kind of guy he might be. They had Wired in common, maybe they had other things in common too.
Like sucking dicks.
He smiled and dismissed the idea. There was no reason to suppose Phillip Anderson was gay, but on the other hand there was also no reason to assume he wasn't. A little fantasy about a complete stranger he would never meet couldn't hurt anything, so Trevor settled back with his beer and let his mind wander.
He was getting pretty chubbed up and just about to move into the bedroom where there was lovely lubricant and a cum rag in the nightstand drawer when he suddenly crashed to Earth, realizing that the Phillip Anderson in his mind was a virtual doppelganger for Marcus! That couldn't be healthy and wouldn't do at all. He shook the image out of his head and took another slug of beer.
And that's when he heard the knock.
Embarrassed to be caught nearly in the solo act Trevor jumped up and went to the front door, adjusting the lump in his jeans to be less noticeable.
There was no one there.
Then he heard another knock, a little louder, and as he turned to check the kitchen door he noticed movement on the screen porch off the back of the house.
With a furrowed brow Trevor went to the sliding glass door that led to the porch. There was a boy, maybe ten years old, looking up at him through the glass with an expression equally as mystified as his own.
He was cute, brownish-blond with bright brown eyes, a sweet round face and a sturdy, if average, body. He was dressed cutely too in a tight powder blue pullover shirt with little golden pineapples all over it, navy blue shorts that showed a lot of leg, and white low-top gym shoes with no socks. Trevor couldn't help looking him over, reminded of the Golden Age with Marcus when the two of them would have seduced a kid this cute in a heartbeat. He unlatched and slid open the door.
"Can I help you?"
"Um..." the boy began uncertainly, "Is Phil here?"
His voice was high and sweet and sounded exactly like one would expect from such a sensual little mouth.
"Who?" Trevor asked, perplexed. "There's no Phil here, and how did you get onto my screen porch?"
"I'm… looking for Phil," the boy said in confusion.
Dawn broke in Trevor's head. "Phillip Anderson?" he asked in surprise, damn near automatically adding "or current resident."
"Yeah," the boy said, brightening at Trevor's acknowledgment of the name. "I'd like to speak to Phil Anderson please."
"I'm sorry, he moved away," Trevor said, "three weeks ago. I live here now. And how exactly did you get onto my screen porch? There's no door from the outside."
The boy hadn't heard the question. His mouth hung open and his eyes seemed to register nothing. He didn't move or speak for several seconds.
"He… moved away?" the boy finally muttered. Then he focused on Trevor again with a shocked and incredulous look. "Three weeks ago?"
"I guess," Trevor said, beginning to sense the boy's distress at the news. "I never met him. The only reason I even know his name is I'm still getting mail addressed to him."
The boy's stunned expression began to change, his eyes screwing up and his sweet red lips contorting into a grimace like the fires of Hell were consuming him. He looked up to Trevor, a plea for help in his eyes, and then the tears sprang forth and began to roll down his reddening cheeks.
Trevor gasped. "Hey, hey," he said, trying to strike a soothing tone that would cover his surprise and anxiety. He hated to see anyone in pain but especially a child, and his mind flailed to think of how to help.
"It's OK, kid," he stammered stupidly. "Listen, come inside. I'll get you a drink of water, OK? Come on."
He took the boy by the shoulders and pulled him into the house. The kid came zombie-like, shuffling straight to the living room couch like he was on auto-pilot. Trevor got the boy settled and hurried into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Here," he said, twisting off the cap and offering the bottle to the boy, but he didn't take it. He just sobbed and heaved, his chin on his chest and the tears pouring down. Trevor sat next to him and lifted his chin with a finger, tipping the bottle to the kid's lips. He robotically took a sip.
Trevor set the bottle on the coffee table and wracked his brain, desperate to help. His eye fell on the Florida-shaped rock and he thought of Marcus and how calm he always felt in his embrace.
That was what this boy needed: warm arms to hold him tight and a strong heartbeat thumping against him. Without asking permission or even thinking about propriety he pulled the boy to him in a firm hug.
The kid didn't resist; just sat and cried, letting himself be held. Trevor took it as encouragement and he scooted closer, their bodies in tight contact and their collective warmth enveloping them.
"You're OK," Trevor softly said. "I've got you. It's all right."
The words meant nothing really but apparently they were soothing because the boy's rigid posture softened and shortly he leaned his little head onto Trevors' shoulder and cried all over the man's shirt. That was OK with Trevor because he finally felt like he was doing something, even though he still had no clue what was going on.
"He said he loved me," the boy murmured through his sobs. "Why did he leave me?"
Trevor sucked in his breath at the realization. The poor boy in his arms had just been dumped, blindsided by someone he thought loved him.
Trevor sure as shit knew what that felt like.
"I don't know, pal," he said. It wasn't very helpful but it was all he had.
Trevor pulled the boy into an even tighter hug and rested his cheek on the top of his head. His soft hair smelled fresh and wonderful, just like Marcus' back in the day. He held the boy for several minutes until his heaving sighs had settled down to mere weeping.
He finally asked, "Was Phillip your special friend?"
The boy tensed and his breath came faster.
"It's OK," Trevor softly said. "I had a special friend when I was your age. His name was Marcus and we loved each other very much. He wasn't a grownup though back then. He's the same age as me."
The boy looked up into Trevor's eyes. There was something new there, something Trevor hadn't yet seen: a glimmer of recognition and just maybe a whiff of trust.
"Really?" the boy asked. "Did you guys… you know…"
"Fool around?" Trevor finished with a reassuring smile. "Oh yes, we sure did. All the time."
The boy offered a tiny smile. He sniffed and it seemed his crying jag was subsiding.
"It's pretty fun, isn't it?" The boy asked with a hint of impishness.
Trevor smiled broadly. "Only the best thing ever."
"Yeah," the boy agreed.
Trevor hesitated, the wound still fresh, but felt he had to add, "He left me too, so I know what you're going through."
The boy's face softened in sympathy and he clutched Trevor tightly.
"It hurts so bad," the boy said, his face contorting anew. He put his cheek against Trevor's shoulder but there were no more tears. After a few seconds he looked up to Trevor's eyes once again.
"Does it get better after a while?" he asked with a voice full of hope.
Trevor ruefully smiled. "I'll let you know," he said. "It only happened last week."
A look of horrified surprise came over the boy and he hugged Trevor even closer, tenderly patting his shoulder. The sweet kid was setting his own pain aside to comfort a grownup he had only just met.
"We're just alike, you and me," the boy quietly said. "Nobody can understand like we can."
Trevor gently rocked the boy back and forth, tenderly stroking his back. His warm softness and amazing boyish scent once again transported Trevor back in time and into the arms of his beloved preteen Marcus. It had been a very long time since he had known such pure sensual contentment.
He missed it.
After a while he forced himself to disengage, gently nudging the boy back to arm's length. They shared a friendly smile and he was pleased to have helped.
"OK, so my name is Trevor Murphy," he began, and the boy's smile turned shy at the realization that they didn't even know each other's names.
"Brandon Fry," he said.
"Nice to meet you, Brandon," Trevor said. "Where do you live?"
"Three houses down, with my mother."
That sounded like there was no father in the picture so he steered away from that topic just as he had avoided Phil.
"How old are you?"
"Ten and a quarter," the boy said.
Trevor gently teased, "By all means don't gyp yourself out of that one-quarter! If you want to sound even older you could count it in months like they do with babies. You know, instead of a year and a half they say 18 months? That way you're 123 months old!"
Brandon laughed and it looked great on him.
"Then you're about a million months old!" the boy teased back.
"Hey now!" Trevor said, pretending to be offended and calculating quickly. "I'll have you know I'm a mere 291!"
They laughed out loud together.
"How much for real?" Brandon pursued. "I mean in years."
"I'm 24," Trevor said.
"That's not so old," Brandon said. "Phil was, like, 40."
Trevor didn't want the conversation to head back to Brandon's jilting lover so he quickly sidetracked.
"So how did you actually get onto the screen porch?" he asked. "There's no door out there."
Brandon stood up and still wasn't as tall as Trevor sitting down. "I'll show you," he said and led the way.
They stepped out onto the porch and Brandon went to where the screens met the corner of the house. Right outside of there was a dense, overgrown bush that almost touched the screen. The boy hooked his little fingertips into the wooden frame and pulled.
Trevor was astonished when the screen opened inward on hinges, the invisible kind they sometimes use on kitchen cabinets. This opened up to a narrow passage between a whole row of overgrown bushes and the side of the house. When closed the screen was held in place by hidden Velcro strips. It was then obvious that Brandon had slipped behind the bushes where no one could see him push open the screen and climb onto the porch.
"Wow!" Trevor said in amazement and, he had to admit, admiration. Phillip Anderson had done this so his little lover could sneak in and out without the neighbors being any the wiser.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Brandon said with pride, as if he had done it himself.
"Very cool," Trevor said as Brandon carefully closed the screen again, making sure it was solid.
"You still wanna keep the bugs out," he explained. "One time I forgot and me and Phil got all mosquito bit in the bedroom. One landed on my dick but he didn't bite me 'cause Phil squished him."
"Her," Trevor corrected, ushering the boy back into the house and closing the slider.
Screens don't stop the neighbors from hearing what you say on the porch.
"Only female mosquitoes bite people to feed on their blood. Male mosquitoes feed on plant nectar."
Brandon considered that for a second, his eyes filling with understanding. Smart kid, Trevor thought.
"Then that's the only time a girl ever touched my dick!" Brandon laughed, then added, "except my Mom when I was little."
"Mom's don't count," Trevor said. "They have to wash you and all that."
"Yeah," Brandon said, then cautiously asked, "Trevor, do girls ever touch your dick?"
How's that for a beeline straight to the prime question, Is you is or is you ain't? The boy needed to hear the words.
"No, Brandon," Trevor said. "Girls aren't my thing. I'm gay."
Visible relief surged through the boy's whole body.
"Me too," he said. "I like boys." Then after a second, "And men. I like men."
"Me too," Trevor smiled. "Men are great."
Dark clouds roiled in Brandon's eyes once again and Trevor braced himself for another wave of tears.
"I was at my Dad's in Wisconsin," the boy offered. "He gets me a month in the summer and every other Christmas."
Divorce. Check.
"The day before I left me and Phil had a Bed-a-Thon — that's what he called it when we spent pretty much all day foolin' around. We were talking about all the fun we'd have when I got back, how we were gonna go to the fair and the zoo and a baseball game."
The boy looked into Trevor's eyes with both bewilderment and heartache.
"He said he couldn't wait; that he loved me so much he would count the minutes until he saw me again. And all the time he was planning to ditch me."
God that guy's an asshole! Trevor thought, but kept a sympathetic smile for Brandon. Until…
"Trevor? Did you ever do it with a boy, like my age maybe?"
If Brandon was going where it seemed he was going Trevor would have a dilemma. Not on moral grounds: he knew from a lifetime of experience that lots of boys want and enjoy sex. It would be a really big step though — a really illegal one — and Trevor wasn't sure he could go there, but he also couldn't outright reject Brandon just as he was starting to feel better.
He couldn't kick the kid when he's down.
"Marcus and I were boyfriends when we were kids," Trevor said, stalling. "And we did it with other boys too back then."
"But since you've been a man," Brandon pressed, "did you ever fool around with a boy?"
"No Brandon," he said, having to look away from the kid's intense eyes. "Marcus and I were together and we had a few gay friends who grew up right along with us. Everybody was pretty much the same age."
Brandon deflated and Trevor hated to see it. The boy needed validation, he needed to know that he was not alone, that what he felt for Phillip Anderson was not sick or evil and that he wasn't a bad kid for desiring a grown man.
"Look Brandon," he began with no idea what he would say next. "Love is love, you know? Whether it's between two boys or two men or one of each. Nobody gets to tell you who you should love and who you shouldn't."
"The cops think they get to," Brandon said. "That's why I came in through the porch instead of the door. Phil said he'd get in big trouble if anybody knew I was here."
"He's right," Trevor said, "Not that long ago Marcus and I could have gotten arrested just for being together. That got better finally and most people are fine with gay adults now, but they won't be OK with grownups having sex with kids any time soon. That's just not going to happen."
"Phil said that back in ancient times you could. There was some place…" The boy searched his memory. "It starts with a P."
"Persia?" Trevor suggested.
"Yeah! That's it! He read me a poem once from back then all about how beautiful and sexy this guy's little boyfriend was. It didn't rhyme but it was sure horny!"
Trevor laughed out loud and Brandon grinned. The kid was really opening up his heart and letting Trevor in, and the connection was like a balm for both of their souls. But a real connection requires the whole, cards-on-the-table truth.
"Love can be complicated," he said. "Like with Marcus and me. He isn't strictly gay like we are. He likes girls too, and starting in high school he was my secret boyfriend but he had girlfriends too, and he fooled around with them just as much as he did with me. Then last month this girl Suzanne found out that she's going to have a baby and Marcus is the father, so he decided to marry her and live like a straight guy with her and the baby."
Brandon looked nothing but sympathetic, obviously understanding perfectly.
"So that's why he dumped you?"
"Yeah."
"So all this time, since he started liking girls, you were only with him but he was with anybody he wanted?"
"It wasn't quite like that," Trevor said. "He didn't go with other boys — unless we did it together — and he only dated one girl at a time. He was honest about all of it."
"Did the girls know he had a boyfriend too?"
"No, but that was because we had to keep our stuff secret. You know about keeping it secret, Brandon. That's why you sneak in and out through the screen porch."
"I'm not ashamed," Brandon insisted. "I love Phil and he loves me and I don't care who knows it. Except my Mom. She can't know, but it's not because I'm ashamed. It's because she would make me stop and I don't want to stop."
They were both silent for a moment and a cloud of sadness descended over Brandon again. His eyes were wet but he didn't fully cry.
"But now Phil stopped it after all," he said, a quaver in his little voice. "Trevor, if someone loves you how can they just leave you?"
Trevor pulled him again into an embrace. "I don't know, man. I just don't know."
Brandon's mournful brown eyes bored into him and Trevor felt his whole world shift, like all of a sudden down was up and everything was different. What he wanted most in the world was to kiss the boy with the lovely, sad eyes and he knew without doubt that the boy wanted it too. Their faces drifted inward and it felt inevitable that their lips would meet.
Trevor didn't even try to resist.
Brandon's plush lips were amazing. Their kiss started tenderly but rapidly intensified until their mouths were crushed together and searching out each other's tongues. Their passion rose in seconds to full intensity and it no longer mattered how many months each had been alive. They were two humans who needed each other and they clutched and clawed in feral abandon.
"Take me to bed!" Brandon implored between kisses. "Please Trevor!"
Rational thought didn't stand a chance.
Trevor scooped the boy into his arms and rushed him into the bedroom. They fell onto the bed and immediately began tearing at each other's clothes. Trevor of course was stronger and had Brandon's shirt up and off in two seconds. The boy apparently decided it would go faster if he let Trevor have his way so he stopped clawing and let himself be undressed, helping only by kicking off his shoes. Little blue shorts flew across the room and Trevor simply had to stop to admire the nearly naked boy.
"God you're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes moving all over him as if trying to see every inch at once.
Trevor's lust had initially risen at least in part because of his memories of Marcus at this age, but Brandon didn't resemble Marcus at all except for being a 10-year-old white boy. Brandon wasn't muscular or athletic like Marcus but he absolutely enthralled Trevor in his own soft way. His curves and swells looked delicious in their pink freshness and even close inspection revealed not a single body hair.
"Come on," Brandon pleaded. "Get my underpants off."
Trevor hooked his fingers into the waistband of the tiny garment — the Batman logo prominently bulged out in the front — and slid them down and off. Brandon's hairless dick sprang up in absolute readiness; three inches of straining excitement.
He was cut in the American tradition but it had been expertly done, leaving virtually no scar tissue. The pink head was a perfect rounded helmet, just slightly larger than the alabaster shaft which curved just a bit upward toward his face. Brandon's little oval balls were distinctly outlined in their hairless sack, which did not droop or sag but stayed tight underneath his quivering shaft. The boy was sex itself to Trevor's eyes and he couldn't wait another second.
"Oh!" Brandon cried as Trevor engulfed him fast as a cobra strike.
The little cock was sweet and tender and amazingly hard. Trevor savored it, giving his all with more enthusiasm than he had lately mustered even for Marcus, and Brandon reacted in kind.
"Oh Trevor!" the boy cried. "Oh yeah!"
Trevor knew he was good at this. Practically everyone he'd ever been with had said so, and he knew absolutely that Brandon was over the moon with it. The kid shuddered and thrust his hips upward, moaning and sighing his delight at the exquisite sensations.
He had no idea if the kid could cum like he and Marcus could at his age — dry but hugely satisfying. He remembered that some of the boys they played with back then never managed to get there, but he sure hoped Brandon would.
Trevor loved making guys cum.
Small hands came to the back of his head and gently held him.
"God you suck good!" Brandon gasped. "It's been so long!"
Trevor concentrated on pleasuring every millimeter of the stiff young cock, and he knew by Brandon's gasps and shudders that he was succeeding. He played with the boy's tight, smooth nutsack, gently rolling the little jellied eggs back and forth and reveling in the wonderful feel of them. Brandon moaned in appreciation.
"Do you have lube?" the boy urgently asked and Trevor paused in shock. He released Brandon's stiffness and looked up into his pleading little face.
"Um, yeah," he said, not sure he should let things go so far so fast.
"Finger me!" Brandon begged. "Put your finger up me while you suck. I'm close already and I can get there if you finger me."
So it wasn't the ultimate, but still a major escalation. Trevor realized that it was a little late to worry about that, having already committed enough felonies to spend the rest of his 20s in prison. As long as he let Brandon drive the action it couldn't go too far for him, and he could be trusted to keep the secret. After all he had been Phillip's bed-mate for many months and never ratted him out.
Until today that is, when he told Trevor, but anybody can have an emotional lapse after that kind of gut-punch.
It wasn't Trevor's style anyway, to push things. He wanted only to give Brandon what he wanted. He disengaged long enough to reach for his K-Y.
"Yeah!" Brandon gleefully cried when he saw the bottle. "Come on Trevor! Put your finger right up me!"
Trevor fumbled a bit, nervous all of a sudden. It had just struck him that this was his very first post-breakup sex and it was with a 10-year-old! But Trevor had been here before, between the beautiful smooth thighs of a massively horny tween boy, and he had been in Brandon's place too, ten years old and craving sex, sex and more sex! They both wanted exactly what was happening so how could it be wrong?
He painted Brandon's brownish-pink hole with the viscous ooze and began to play with it with a fingertip. Around and around the opening he went, slipping closer and closer every time like a soap bubble circling the bathtub drain. He tickled the hot little hole and he felt it quiver under his touch.
"Go ahead!" Brandon moaned. "You won't hurt me, I swear!"
Trevor slipped just the tip of his middle finger through the boy's ring. It was tight but Brandon wasn't resisting. He pushed a little harder and slid easily inside to the first knuckle.
Jesus Christ it was hot!
"Yeah baby," Brandon cooed in obvious pleasure, no longer urgent. "Go deeper and suck some more."
Trevor had been absorbed in his butt-play and sort of forgot he was supposed to be sucking. He took the dick again to a contented sigh from Brandon and he began to suck in earnest while working his finger into the boy with slow back-and-forth movements, a little deeper each time.
Long before he expected to his fingertip encountered a small rounded bump, the boy's surprisingly prominent prostate, and Brandon squealed in delight.
"That's it! Right there, Trevor! That's the place!"
Trevor and Marcus had remained wholly ignorant of the prostate until well into their teens. Oh, a few times they had stumbled upon something in there that felt amazing but they had no idea what it was and couldn't find it again if it had a GPS tracker. All they knew was some magical times the angle was just right and the cock or finger inside them would touch something that felt like electricity, and if they touched it enough they would cum harder than they ever thought they could.
And that was Trevor's most fervent wish for Brandon.
He pumped up and down on the little cock, pausing at the top to lick and lave the drum-taut head and thrilling to Brandon's enraptured reaction. Of course a lot of that was due to Trevor's middle fingertip firmly tickling the boy's love button. Brandon gasped and his hips thrust and his belly quaked, and Trevor had never been more sure a boy was about to cum.
"Unghh!" the boy grunted, so loud that Trevor was glad the air conditioner was running to cover it. "Oh God!" the boy cried. "Yes! Oh Trevor yes!"
Brandon pushed his hips up and drove his twitching dick as deeply into Trevor's mouth as he could. His asshole clenched and squeezed Trevor's finger as he bucked and heaved to his climax, and it was everything Trevor had hoped to give him.
This boy was incredibly sexual, amazingly responsive, and on top of that he was cute and smart and funny and sensitive and in every way an utter joy.
Phillip Anderson had to be a moron to ever leave him.
Brandon's brown eyes fluttered open and Trevor smiled into them. "Hey," he said. "There you are."
The boy blinked a few times but didn't move from his position snuggled tightly against Trevor's side. His hand was on Trevor's bare chest where it had been for half an hour and he smiled in surprised amusement when he felt chest hair.
"You're naked," he giggled, raising his head for a better look. "And you have a big hard boner! Nice! I don't remember you taking your clothes off though."
"You were asleep," Trevor said. "You had the biggest cum I ever saw in my whole life and then you fell asleep."
Brandon grinned. "I remember! It was really great and I needed it real bad. Thank you Trevor."
"It was my pleasure," Trevor said with a fond smile, "and I mean that."
"Man, the way you sucked my dick!" the boy went on. "You're really good at it, and the way you tickled my prostrate."
"The word is prostate, not prostrate," he corrected. "There's no R in the middle."
Brandon's eyebrows narrowed. "Are you sure? Phil always said prostrate."
"Yes, I'm sure," Trevor said. "When there's an R in the middle it means something else. A lot of people make that mistake."
"Well whatever it's called you sure know how to tickle it! Man, I never came that hard!"
That pleased Trevor to no end and he smiled proudly.
"Any time you want, kid," he said. "I loved doing it."
Brandon beamed, "I could go again right now!"
One second later his face dropped in concern. "But what about you? You didn't get to cum yet, did you?" Then after one more second the boy's impish smile came back and he added, "Unless you took care of it yourself while I was asleep."
Trevor chuckled softly. "No," he said. "I just watched you sleep, which I really enjoyed by the way. You're beautiful when you sleep."
The boy turned slightly crimson but his smile grew wider.
"It's your turn now," Brandon declared. "What can I do? How do you cum the best?"
In truth Trevor always had his best cums when he topped but he wasn't going to suggest that. If that ever happened Brandon would have to ask for it.
"What do you like to do?" he asked but Brandon shook his head.
"No, you have to say. I want to do what you like."
"I like a lot of things," Trevor said, still hesitant to go too far.
"I could suck you," Brandon offered, "just until you think of what you really want."
"Great idea," Trevor said with a smile, settling himself comfortably and opening his legs. The boy scooted between them on his knees, sitting on his heels.
"You've got a pretty big one," he said, taking it in his little hand and giving it slow, sensual strokes. His fingers didn't reach all the way around but they felt fantastic.
"Is it too big for you to suck?" Trevor asked in concern, wondering if Phillip Anderson was a pencil dick. Trevor himself was only about average in the world of men but to this boy he was big.
"No man!" Brandon beamed. "I like that it's big! Heck, I'd like it if it was small too. I just like dicks, period."
With that the boy ducked to his task, placing his red lips against the very tip of Trevor's cock and pushing down so that the dick itself forced open his lips. With the entire helmet in his mouth he began to pleasure it with his tongue. He slowly pulled off letting his lips close over the head again, prolonging the mouth-to-cock contact. Trevor shuddered at the sensation.
"Oh Christ!" he exclaimed.
Brandon giggled. "You like that, huh?"
"I sure do!" Trevor enthused. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"With Phil," the boy said in a matter-of-fact way. "I never did stuff with anybody but him — until today."
Trevor braced for Brandon to slip into melancholy again at the mention of the lover who abandoned him but instead the boy smiled and said, "I love to suck."
Trevor grinned and said, "Go for it!"
Brandon plunged down again, this time taking nearly half of the almost-six inches while he held the rest in his soft hand. He worked his little mouth up and down, pausing to run his tongue around and around the head and making yummy sounds like he was savoring his favorite dessert.
Phillip Anderson had taught him well.
Just as the boy slid his lips down the shaft, a particularly strong jolt sent Trevor's hips involuntarily bucking upward, forcing his dick all the way into Brandon's mouth and stabbing briefly into his throat. The boy reacted in surprise but didn't panic, just pulled off and coughed, taking a few deep breaths. He never released Trevor's cock from his hand.
"Oh shit, Brandon!" Trevor cried. "I'm sorry. Are you OK?"
"Yeah, it's fine," the boy said, making smiling eye contact. "I kind of like when it goes all the way in like that just for a second, but it's better when I'm ready for it."
"I'm so sorry Brandon," Trevor repeated. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You didn't," the boy insisted. "I liked it. Sometimes I wish I had one of those prostate things in my throat!"
Trevor's eyes widened in astonishment at that statement, and that made Brandon giggle yet again. Trevor just looked at him in admiring amusement.
"Marcus and I used to giggle a lot too when we fooled around," Trevor said, "back in the day."
Brandon steadily jerked Trevor off as he replied, "I never did it with another kid, but I know I'd like to."
"I'm sure you would," Trevor agreed, "and so would the other boy judging by how well you suck."
"I can do a lot better than this," Brandon said. "I'm just gettin' warmed up!"
"Well then show me what you've got, Champ!" Trevor urged.
"Is that what you want then? What you decided on?"
"Yeah," Trevor said with finality. "Give me your very best blow job."
"All right!" Brandon said with a grin and ducked down to Trevor's cock again but suddenly stopped. "Oh, and when you're ready just go ahead and squirt. You don't have to warn me or anything, 'cause I'll know."
Trevor held their eye contact with that same amused smile. "You're really something, you know that Brandon?"
The boy blushed a little. "You are too," he said, and they just shared the gaze for a moment until Brandon took Trevor's cockhead into his little mouth once more and firmly yet tenderly resumed working it.
He really was good, varying the pressure and technique in endless combinations. Trevor moaned and squirmed and thought he was going to cum half a dozen times as the boy devoured him.
Brandon licked the shaft from the balls to the head and back, maybe ten times. He spent a lot of effort on Trevor's sensitive glans, nibbling and laving and pumping his mouth up and down no deeper than the head.
Then Brandon raised up to align himself more directly over Trevor's cock, took a deep breath, and pushed all the way down until Trevor could actually feel his cockhead surrounded by the moist walls of the boy's throat. Brandon held himself down with his lips pressed into Trevor's pubes and forced a swallow, which made his throat muscles undulate around the cockhead and gave Trevor sensations he had never known. The boy could only hold himself down for five seconds, but what an amazing five seconds!
"Holy fuck, Brandon!" Trevor gasped. "Nobody ever did that to me before!"
Brandon pulled off and faced him with a grin. "I made it up! Phil never heard of it either."
"Wow!" Trevor sighed, then gasped when Brandon took him deep again.
On and on the blowjob went, mostly on the head and shaft but punctuated with a few deep-throats now and again. After a remarkably long time when Trevor felt his urgency rising he knew the boy was taking him all the way. His balls pulled tight and his back arched up from the bed, and he clutched the back of Brandon's head.
The universe washed through him as the hot surge ascended his shaft and spurted fiercely into Brandon's sucking, swallowing mouth. Brandon didn't miss a drop and his eyes sparkled with delight at the pleasure he was giving.
The boy held his position until all the spasms had ceased and Trevor's cock began to slacken. Then and only then did he relinquish his prize. He climbed up onto Trevor's chest and deeply kissed him.
Trevor could taste his own cum.
"It's different than Phil's," the boy said, his face two inches away while he ground his bone-hard little dick into Trevor's belly. "Do all men taste different?"
"I don't honestly know," Trevor replied, kneading Brandon's delicious round buns with both hands. "I think they're all basically the same, but maybe a little different."
"Are you a Vegan?" Brandon asked out of left field.
Trevor smiled quizzically. "No, why do you ask?"
"Phil's a Vegan. I was wondering if your stuff tastes different because you eat animals."
"Are you a Vegan?" Trevor asked in a surprised tone.
"Heck no!" Brandon said. "I love hamburgers! But I guess I'm not too happy about killing a cow so I can have one."
"They've got really good fake hamburgers now," Trevor suggested. "They're made out of plants."
"Yeah, Phil wanted me to try one, but he never bought me one before he..."
Brandon stopped in mid-sentence. Trevor's smile faded in sympathy and he wrapped his arms around the boy's soft little body. The part of his brain that was always tuned into dirty stuff noted that Brandon's boner had suddenly wilted.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. "It has to be tough."
Brandon returned Trevor's sympathetic look. "It's gotta be tough for you too," he said.
"I'll tell you what," Trevor offered, "I'll talk about my ex if you'll talk about yours. How's that?"
Brandon smiled bravely. Trevor thought those red Cupid's-bow lips looked so fucking cute when he smiled!
"OK," the boy said. "But you go first."
"Fair enough," Trevor said, and maneuvered Brandon off of his chest and onto the bed next to him, the boy's head resting on Trevor's outstretched arm.
"This is how Marcus and I always laid and talked after sex." This got a giggle from Brandon, which seemed to be the boy's usual response to anything remotely sexual.
"Phil used my stomach for a pillow sometimes," the boy recalled with a fond smile. "He did it to tease me because his head was really heavy, but he only laid on me for a minute."
"That sounds like a happy memory," Trevor observed.
"Yours too. How did you guys get together?"
"We met in Kindergarten. Marcus got there a little late for the first day — his Mom was always running late — and the only open spot on the rug was right next to me. He smiled and I think I fell a little bit in love right then. I didn't know for sure until later but I sure knew I liked him!"
"That's so cool!" Brandon said, smiling. "And you didn't break up until last week? Man! That's, like..."
Brandon concentrated on the math in his head but he wasn't coming up with it.
"Nineteen years," Trevor said. "I thought it would be forever." Then he smiled, changing the mood entirely. "So how about you guys? How did you meet?"
"At the pool, not this summer but last summer. Me and my friend Angus were in the changing room and Phil was at a locker right across from us. He was changing into his swimming suit right out in front of everybody instead of going into one of the booths. Old guys do that sometimes."
"Did you see him naked?"
"Yeah!" Brandon grinned. "He just stripped right down and Angus and me saw everything!"
"And you liked what you saw, huh?"
"Yeah, I liked it a lot," Brandon grinned. "Phil just stood there and smiled 'cause he knew I was looking."
"Did Angus like it too?"
"No! He got all weird about it. He went into a booth and put his suit on and then he said he'd meet me in the pool and he hurried right out."
"You didn't hurry out though, did you?"
"No. I stayed behind so I could look at Phil. I was gonna use a changing booth like Angus did but Phil just kind of looked at me and it seemed like he was telling me to go ahead and change right there. There was nobody else around so I did it."
"You stripped naked for Phil and you didn't even know him?" Trevor marveled.
"That's right, I did," Brandon said with pride. "I knew he was excited to see me bare and that was real exciting for me too."
"Do you like that, when people see you bare?"
"Not just anybody. I wanted Phil to see me bare." He paused for a second and made deep eye contact. "I like that you're seeing me bare too, and I like seeing you."
"Me too, Brandon," Trevor said. "You're a beautiful boy."
Brandon's sexy lips turned up into a smile. "You're a handsome man."
Trevor blushed because with Marcus around he always came in a poor second in the looks department, although guys they picked up for sex usually commented on how hot they both were. He always thought that they only included him out of kindness when it was really Marcus who blew them away, but occasionally it seemed sincere.
"So at the pool," Trevor pressed, needing to get out of his head, "were there any boners involved?"
Brandon laughed out loud. "No, not that day," he said. "We just stood there and looked until we heard somebody coming and then we put our suits on real quick."
"Did Phil hang around and play with you guys in the pool?"
"No. Angus wouldn't have liked that. I watched Phil swim laps and go off the diving board and stuff. Sometimes when I looked he was looking back at me and we would smile. I saw him smile at other boys too, and I figured he was just a real friendly guy."
"So when did he get more than just friendly?" Trevor slyly asked.
"One day my Mom was having Book Club at our house and she made me go outside and play so the ladies could drink wine and make fun of their husbands. I went for a bike ride and when I came by here Phil was in the driveway washing his car. I said hi and he remembered me from the pool, and all of a sudden we were friends! I helped him finish cleaning his car but it was real hot and I got all sweaty, so he said come in and cool off in the air conditioning and have some lemonade."
"That sounds nice," Trevor said.
"It was real nice, but inside the house it got a lot nicer. Phil said he was sweating too so he took off his shirt and it made me think about seeing him naked. Then he said I should take mine off too and cool off and I figured he wanted to be naked together again and I wanted that too. Instead of getting naked though he pulled me up onto his lap and he started playing with me over my shorts."
"That's when the boners got involved!" Trevor said with a sly grin.
"Yeah! Big time!" Brandon cried. "I was nine and I had lots of boners before but nobody ever touched my dick like that. As soon as he felt it get hard he said, 'There's too many windows here. Let's go into the bedroom.' So we went into the bedroom and he took my shorts off of me and I helped him take his off and we did all kinds of stuff to each other that I never even knew guys could do."
"Wow!" Trevor said. "That sounds amazing."
"It was. It all just felt so... you know, right. We licked and sucked and kissed and it was the best day of my whole life!"
Trevor gently asked, "Did he put it, you know...?"
"Up me? No, not that day. He told me about it though and he said someday I would ask him to do it. And you know what? After a couple of weeks I did."
"Wow," Trevor repeated. His cock was straining despite his recent orgasm, as hard as it had ever been. He looked down and Brandon was hard again too.
"Did you, you know, like it?
"It was scary at first," Brandon said. "I wanted it though, and he went real slow and real careful. It hurt, especially at the very first, but it was good too and I really wanted to show him how much I loved him. It was better the second time and even better after that until I really loved it when he fucked me. When he shot his stuff up inside me that's when we gave each other everything."
Trevor's mind reeled. He so wanted this boy, to make love to him deeply and passionately and have them give each other everything. Now that he knew that Brandon had repeatedly taken a grown man and adored doing it he was obsessed with the idea. All he had to do was suggest it because one look at Brandon told him the boy was as eager as he was.
Suddenly Brandon sat bolt upright in bed, looking somewhere past Trevor.
"Shit!" the boy exclaimed. "I've gotta go!" He scrambled off the bed and frantically searched for his clothes.
"What's the matter?" Trevor asked in alarm.
"Your clock says 4:30!" Brandon said, finding his Batman undies and hurrying into them. "My Mom got home from work half an hour ago!"
"What's so bad about that?" Trevor asked. "You're allowed to go out and play by yourself aren't you?"
"Yeah, but tonight she has a date so I'm having supper at my Aunt's house. My Aunt gets mad if we're not there at five o'clock on the dot and then my Mom gets mad at me 'cause she has to deal with my Aunt!"
"Oh," Trevor said, let down somewhat from the adrenaline that had been pumping when he thought he was about to fuck Brandon. Still he was glad nothing was really wrong, like somebody peeping in the window and seeing them naked on the bed!
Brandon pulled up his shorts. "Where the heck is my shirt?"
"Right here," Trevor said, picking it up from the floor on his side of the bed and tossing it over to him. He was really gratified when Brandon grinned.
"Thanks," the boy said pulling it on, and ran out of the room carrying his shoes. Trevor pulled on a handy pair of running shorts to join him in the living room where, as Phillip Anderson had noted, there were too many windows.
Brandon didn't tie his gym shoes and turned for the sliding door to the screen porch, but suddenly he stopped and ran back to Trevor, literally jumping into his arms.
"Thank you Trevor," the boy said and kissed him quickly but meaningfully. "I really really like you, and you really helped me today. Can I come back tomorrow?"
"You'd better," Trevor mock-warned. "I just might die if you don't."
Brandon ran to the slider and as he hauled it open with all his strength turned back to flash one more smile.
And then he was gone.
Thanks for reading Chapter 1 of Phillip Anderson (or Current Resident.) Chapter 2 is coming soon.
If you like my stuff have a look at my story archive here on my Prolific Authors page.
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