WARNING: The following story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men and minors, especially boys. If you are under 18 years of age, READ NO FURTHER. If you are an opponent of the First Amendment of the U. S. Constitution, or are morally opposed to sexually explicit fiction involving minors, READ NO FURTHER. The following story is fantasy only and was written for the author's private enjoyment. Others have convinced me to share... This fiction is not intended to contribute in any way to illegal actions by the reader, nor is it intended to contribute in any way to harmful acts toward children.
A Place to Hang Out
When I was 41, I got divorced from my wife of 10 years and moved into a dumpy apartment in a poor section of northeastern Portland. The apartment complex had a lot of single parents in it. One day after work as I walked up the outdoor steps to my second story apartment, Chad, a beautiful little urchin from the complex, sat at the top of the steps smoking a cigarette. Chad wore a baggy unwashed pair of gray jogging pants that had been crudely cut off just above the knees and nothing else. He had long blond hair that came to his shoulders in curls. A stray, thick curl dangled across one eye. He jumped when he saw that he had been caught smoking.
But he was a tough little kid, and he recovered quickly. I know he had worse things to worry about than me. "Hello, Mr. Crawford," he chirped, sliding to one side to give me room to pass. He still looked concerned that I might yell at him.
I had met him the week before, along with his wild and barely-20 year old mother, Cyndy. Cyndy, who had been wearing a tube top, wasted her time by making a pass at me. They lived in the apartment right next to mine.
I paused at the top step and gazed down at him. Skinny as he was, his bent-over stomach had little wrinkles of skin with no fat. "Hi, Chad." He seemed surprised and pleased that I knew his name. "You are a little young to be smoking, aren't you?" I asked in a cheerful voice.
He must have sensed my friendliness because he stuck his chest out and said, "Naw. I'll be 11 next month."
"Where's your mom?"
He looked up warily, and I gazed into his dazzling blue eyes. Freckles nearly as big as polka dots covered his nose and forehead. "Beats me. She never came home last night."
I wondered how anyone, especially a mother, could ignore such a cute kid. "You had anything to eat today?"
"A peanut butter sandwich."
"Ain't nothing else. Just peanut butter, moldy bread and cigarettes. Mom doesn't shop much."
"Want to have dinner with me tonight?"
"Oh, I couldn't," he said. He gazed across the parking lot.
"That's too bad. I hate to eat alone. And I think it would be great to get to know you." I paused. He continued to stare into the distance. "If you change your mind, just knock on my door."
As I fumbled with my keys, he stood and said, "I guess I could--" He stood. "Let me grab a shirt."
"Don't bother. It's hot and I don't have air conditioning."
He padded eagerly into my apartment on bare feet. I lived in a studio unit -- a bedroom, kitchen, and living room all in one space. It was identical to the one his mother and he lived in. I wondered how they kept from driving each other crazy. Or how they got any privacy.
I grabbed a couple cans of Coke from the refrigerator. He stood just inside the doorway, looking a little lost, the cigarette still in his hand. "Get rid of the smoke, okay?"
"Sure," he said, walking outside and flicking it over the rail. I handed him the Coke. "Thanks, Mr. Crawford," he said with a huge smile that showed a chipped incisor. He took a huge gulp that made his eyes water.
"Call me Mark. You can sit anywhere you want while I get some burgers cooking." He sat at the kitchen table and watched me carefully, now taking ginger little sips from the coke. After I had the burgers in the frying pan and frozen fries in the oven, I said, "Man, is it ever hot. Going to get worse with the oven on. Mind if I get rid of some of these clothes?"
He did a double take. "No problem," he uttered enthusiastically.
I went over to the bed side and kicked off my tennis shoes. I talked about baseball, especially the Seattle Mariners, as I stripped off my shirt. He stared without any sign of embarrassment. I'm 5' 10" and 150 pounds. All my life I had been skinny until I neared 40 years of age. Then my stomach began to soften and bulge a little. Still, I looked a lot better than most 41 year olds, so I felt comfortable having him stare. My stomach and chest are covered with a see-through downy blanket of mostly-straight brown hair. Since he continued to stare, I decided to show him a little more and dropped my pants around my ankles. I walked over to the stove to check on the burgers, absently scratching the crotch of my BVD's. He continued to watch me in silence. I went to my dresser to select a loose pair of cotton shorts. I didn't put a shirt on.
I got him to open up more during dinner. He talked about a range of topics, especially skateboarding, go-cart racing, and motorcycles. He ate quickly. Probably he hadn't eaten a hot meal for quite a while. Throughout dinner, I stared at the beautiful, nearly translucent skin that seemed stretched too tight across his bony chest. His nipples were tiny brown dots -- small as beauty marks. A thin, pink scar started at his chest and disappeared beneath the waistband of his jogging shorts. It looked like the work of a crude surgeon, but I found it alluring. "I've noticed that you have a scar. Appendix surgery?"
He blushed and looked down. "A couple years ago one of my mom's boyfriend went nuts and tried to skin me alive. He's in prison." He glanced up quickly and his voice lightened as he distanced himself from the painful memory. "Ugly, ain't it."
"No. Actually, I kind of like it." I wanted to touch it, but lacked the courage to ask. "And the rest of you is so beautiful -- handsome, I mean -- that somehow it makes you look even more interesting."
"You mean you like it?"
"Don't get me wrong, I hate that guy for hurting you. If I could make it go away, I would. But I think you are a very special kid, and since it's part of you, I like it."
He tilted his head to one side and sat looking shy and adorable. After we finished eating he said, "I'll wash dishes."
"That's okay," I said, still staring at his chest and stomach. I noticed that he had been checking out my bare chest, as well.
"Really. I want to. To pay you back for the meal."
"No, thanks," I said quickly. After a moment, I added, "There is something you could do, though."
"Pose for a couple of pictures."
He looked surprised. "Me? Why would you want to take a picture of me?"
"Because I like to take pictures of cute boys and men. And you are very cute."
"You really think so?" He sat up straight. "You do, don't you?"
"Definitely. I could look at you all day long. Maybe if I had a couple pictures, I would look at them all day long."
He blushed again. "You don't need no picture. You can look at me anytime you want."
I got my 35mm camera from the closet shelf. It was already loaded with black and white film. "Stand over by the window." He held himself rigid as he posed. After taking the shot, I gave him more specific instructions on how to pose. He tried to comply, but he was still too nervous to give me a good shot. As I praised his good looks and the nice job he was doing, he relaxed.
"Will you pose for a couple of seated pictures?"
"Sure," he said. "Take as many as you want." I put him in several poses at the kitchen chair, then on the sofa. The poses slowly became more sexually suggestive. How about laying on the bed on your side. That's it. Now raise one knee and put your hand on that thigh. Good. Now support your head with the other hand." I took several more shots.
I set the camera down.
"Are you done?" he asked, looking disappointed.
"Well, those are all the poses I can think of -- at least with you dressed like that."
"Do you want me to change my clothes?" he asked, sitting upright on the bed.
"Actually," I said, feeling my pulse race, "I was thinking of less clothes rather than different ones."
A long silence stretched between us. "You want me naked?" he asked in surprise.
"Well, that would be really cool."
He nibbled on his lip. "But why?"
"Because I think you are sexy."
"Sexy. You mean like a girl?"
"Sort of. You know how some men look at pictures of naked girls, like in Playboy magazine?" I swallowed hard, knowing I was taking a big risk. "I'd like to look at a naked picture of you."
He frowned in deep thought. Without speaking, he stood and stripped naked in one swift motion. He stood boldly before me, his butt against the edge of my bed, offering his little-boy genitals to my lusty gaze. I was surprised at how small his and perfectly formed his genitals were. His cock, thinner than a pencil, was less than an inch long and had a delicate pink-colored glans at the end. His balls, pink in their hairless sac, hung low but were only the size of raspberries. He had no pubic hair. The scar that began on his chest ended atop the bump his pubic bone made over his penis. Another two inches lower and the boy's cock would have been cut.
After staring for at least a minute, I remembered my camera and took a picture.
"Am I too ugly?"
"When will you get it? I think you are beautiful as an angel."
"Is my dick too small?"
"It's just the right size for a 10 year old." I directed him to some more standing and seated poses, including some shots of his smooth, rounded buttocks.
He was sitting on the bed, both knees raised so I could see the hint of his anus, when he asked, "When guys look at Playboy, don't they get boners?"
"Yes, I'll bet most guys do get aroused."
"Do you have a boner from looking at me?" He was staring at the huge lump in my baggy cotton shorts. It was my turn to blush. "Yes," I humbly admitted.
"Cool," he said. "Can I see it?"
"Oh, that's not a very good idea."
"Because," I answered.
He didn't argue, but as he waited for me to load a new roll of film, his boy-cock became erect, straining upward to its proud 2 and a quarter inches. I quickly snapped a picture of his erection, then asked him to lie on the bed on his stomach. I instructed him to spread his legs and took several more pictures. He was posed on his knees with his cheek on the pillow so his butt stuck up in the air when he asked, "When guys look at Playboy, don't they think about how good it would feel to put their boners in the woman's pussy?"
"Yes, I suppose most men would think that."
"But I don't have a pussy."
I would have laughed out loud but the dear boy sounded so serious. "That's right," I said simply.
He kept his ass in the air. "One of the kids I hang out with, Derek, told me his older brother keeps trying to talk him into letting him fuck his ass."
My cock had never ached so much. "Does he let him?"
"No, Derek says he ain't queer." Chad wiggled his butt. "Can a grown-up's cock really fit in a boy's butthole?"
"I guess so." I set the camera down. "I guess it hurts a lot, but if the man is gentle and the boy is willing, it can definitely fit."
There was a long pause.
"Are you done taking pictures?" he asked, sounding a little disappointed.
"Yeah, I think I am." We could hear his mother moving around in the apartment next door. Chad got dressed and thanked me before he left. The moment he was out the door, I pulled my shorts down and stoked my cock about six times. I began ejaculating all over the table.
I opened my eyes when I heard the door open. In my haste I had neglected to lock it. Chad stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open. I turned my back and started to pull my shorts up as he slammed the door. I thought about going after him, then realized how stupid that would be. Instead I got some Kleenex and began wiping my semen off the table.
Around 8:00 the next evening I heard loud voices out on the landing. I stepped out to see three tough looking men arguing with Chad's mother. Chad stood next to her, sort of half in and half out of the door. He looked scared and angry.
"The little snot can sit outside the door. Hell, he can even join us, but you've got to let us in, baby. We all need to party!" The speaker was a flabby, bearded man with a sleeveless denim jacket and a tattoo of an eagle on his biceps.
"Let's go to your place," his mother said in a weak voice.
I cleared my throat. "Cyndy, is everything okay?" I would never have said anything and risk getting chewed up by these three rough looking men if Chad were not stuck in the middle.
"Yeah, sure," she said, instantly dismissing me.
I started to close the door but stopped when Chad called, "Wait!"
He padded over to me on bare feet and said, "These guys want to fuck mom. She want to let them, too, but I'm in the way. Can I hang out at your place for awhile?"
"I'd like that."
He went to his mother and spoke softly to her. The men had already pushed their way into her apartment. "How long can he stay?" she called to me.
"As long as he wants," I replied with a friendly smile. My cock began to blossom.
"All night?" she asked hopefully.
Nothing could have made me happier. "If he wants to." Without saying goodbye to her, he bounded over to me. "Don't you want to get anything? Toothbrush? Change of clothes? Pajamas?"
"No way am I going in there with those assholes!" he said angrily.
Chad wasn't inside with me for 10 minutes before he asked, "Can I see the pictures you took of me?"
He didn't look disappointed, just nervous. A few minutes later he said. "You told me that you wanted to look at them."
He seemed to lose his nerve because he shrugged his shoulders and sat down in front of the television. I took off my shirt and shoes and sat down beside him. Several times I caught him looking at my bare chest. Pretending to be casual, he leaned his head against my shoulder. I lifted my arm to engulf his slender shoulders, and he snuggled his head tight against my chest. We sat like that through two sit-coms.
"Well--" He picked at a splintered fingernail. "You don't have pictures to look at, but I guess that's okay since I'm right here for you to look at."
It was the first time I've ever had a boy make a pass at me. I didn't know how to respond. Lamely, I said, "The pictures could never be as beautiful as you are in person." Looking back, I wish I had said something like, "yeah, but in the pictures you are naked." I'm just not clever or brave enough.
"I have to pee," I said, rising. He stood, too. I left the bathroom door open and he stood off to one side so he could see me standing over the bowl, my dick in my hand. When I walked back next to him, Chad said, "Boy you sure have a big one." He tugged at the front of his jeans.
"Maybe you would be more comfortable in your pajamas."
He wrinkled his nose. "I told you I just wear my underpants."
"That's what I mean."
"Oh," he said softly. "I don't want to go to bed this early," he said.
"Neither do I."
He smiled, then took off his shirt and pants. He wore Fruit of the Loom underwear, the worst brand ever made. The leg elastic wears out too fast and they creep up. I stripped to my BVD's. My cock, which was rock hard, angled off to one side and was wedged just beneath the elastic of the waistband. A wet spot a the end of it made the cotton shorts seem invisible.
Chad stood facing me. "Wow. Did you shoot more of that stuff?"
"That stuff you shot all over the table. Sperms."
"No. Sometimes it just leaks a little clear slippery stuff when it gets hard."
He looked a little like and angel and a little like a boy raised by wolves. I tousled his hair as I walked past. I dished up some ice cream for each of us and sat a the kitchen table.
"Want to sit on my lap?"
Without hesitation, he scurried onto my thighs. As he settled in, rubbing has butt against my straining erection, he giggled and said, "Your leg hairs itch. Seems like you got hair everywhere."
"Don't have any hair on my tongue."
He laughed. "Show me!" When I stuck out my tongue, he laughed harder.
"Don't have any hair on the bottoms of my feet."
"Show me!" He almost rolled off my lap. I lifted my foot and showed him.
"Where else?" he asked.
"Well, there's a spot on top of my head--"
"Show me!" he demanded. Then without waiting for me, he stretched up, kneeling on my thigh so he could look at the top of my head. "Hey, you still have some hair." Then the giggling started again. "But not much."
I started to tickle his ribs. After a moment, he looked up at me with his sparkling eyes. "Bet you don't have hair on your dick."
Thinking he meant my pubic hair, I said, "Yes, I do."
"Show me," he asked in a throaty voice.
I got a spoonful of ice cream and held it to his lips. He gulped it, then repeated, "Show me."
"You know I have hair there."
"Bet a hundred dollars you don't."
"I don't have a hundred dollars," I replied.
He managed to bump into my erection with his elbow. "Liar. Tell you what, if you win the bet I'll clean your whole house."
"And if you win?"
He pressed his cheek against my collar bone. "You take me to the ocean. I've always wanted to do that." He lived less an hour's drive from the coast. A pang of pity gripped me. Then his palm rubbed my hairy stomach for a moment before dropping down to tentatively touched the wet cotton where my glans pressed against my underwear. I sucked in my breath. "Show me," he repeated.
I whispered in his ear, my body jingling with the electricity created by the weight of his small hand on my glans, "But Chad, it's my body. I know you'll lose."
"That's what you think," he chirped, his mood lightening, perhaps because he knew he had me like putty in his hands. He lifted the waistband of my shorts and I felt the chill on my glans as its wetness was exposed to the air.
"Wow, your dick is really big and--" He wrapped his fingers around the shaft just beneath the glans. "I win! There's not a single hair on it."
I was in no mood for arguing at that point, but I managed to croak, "What are you talking about. It's really hairy down there."
"Sure it's hairy all around it. But there is no hair on your dick." He rubbed his hand across my glans for emphasis.
"Hey, that's not fair. You tricked me!" I rubbed his buttocks through his briefs.
He got eye to eye with me and said, "You don't have to take me to a movie. It's okay."
I looked into the somber eyes, eyes that delicately and resiliently held much pain. Tears came into my eyes. "Chad, I'd love to take you to a movie -- bet or not."
"Really? Cool!" He started moving his hand up and down the shaft. "I want to see you shoot the white stuff again -- like you did on the table yesterday."
"You weren't supposed to see that."
I wish I could do that -- make sperms I mean."
I moved my arm around him and rubbed the crotch of his briefs. "Well, you won't cum for a couple years yet, but you can still orgasm."
"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on jacking me off.
I slipped two fingers within the leg opening of his ancient briefs. I was rewarded by contact with his hot, rigid cock. He flinched.
"Did I hurt you?"
"God, no. That feels great!"
I returned to his earlier question. "An orgasm happens when the good feelings in your cock get really intense. It's the best thing you could ever feel. If you're old enough, the orgasm is when you shoot your cum." I rubbed across the wrinkled walnut of his scrotum and he arched his back. With my other hand I fed him a spoonful of ice cream. "Do you want to have an orgasm?"
"Sure." While continuing to rub lightly across his genitals, I also teased at his thick, pliable nipples. He definitely liked what we were doing together. I hadn't really noticed he was no longer jacking me off until he said, "I'm sorry I'm not doing a good job, but it feels so good I keep forgetting to keep my hand moving."
"I want to make you feel good, Chad. After you orgasm, maybe you'll want to give me one." The small hand stopped moving my foreskin, but his grip on my cock remained firm. As I began gently coaxing the tight skin of his shaft toward the circumcised tip with my thumb and forefinger, he squirmed his butt around.
"Just relax and trust me, Chad. When you orgasm, it will be the best thing you've ever felt."
"It already is," he choked.
His briefs restricted my range of motion, but just as I prepared to ask him to remove them, I got an idea. I saw the liquid in the bowl from the melted ice cream. I pulled my hand from the leg opening of his briefs. Moving deftly, I tugged on the waistband of his shorts, stretching it outward and dumped the cold but melted ice cream inside.
He leaped to his feet. "Jesus!" I laughed and he looked peeved. "why the hell did you do that?" He stood stiffly, his hands hovering near his waistband as ice cream slowly stained the front of the briefs. Small trails of the brown liquid coursed down the inside of his thigh, escaping from the leg opening I had just been stretching to get access to his beautiful, little cock.
"I wanted some ice cream, and I thought of a more fun way to eat it." I held my hand out and he took it, his frown fading.
"What do you mean?"
I put my hands on his hips and lifted him to a sitting position at the edge of the table. As I bent down, he figured out my intention. "Well hurry up because its freezing!" His hands were already on the back of my head.
I tugged on the waistband, licking the ice cream on his abdomen before working lower.
"That tickles," he complained in a voice that was not really complaining. I licked the puddle that formed around his balls and thighs. Then I worked the shorts off his body. He lifted his hips to assist me. I took his genitals -- cock and balls -- into my mouth in one gulp. His hands clenched my hair.
I sealed my lips around him and sucked hard. Then I used my tongue to swirl around the glans and the underside of his shaft. In a couple of seconds, his hips came to life. I lifted my head, not wanting him to have his first-ever orgasm sitting on a kitchen table.
"Don't stop," he whined.
I smiled and kissed his nose before picking him up and carrying him to the bed. I placed him carefully on his back then slid down to suck his cock once again. His hands found my head immediately, and he held on while I did my very best to make this 10 year old boy feel manly pleasure.
"Oh! What's happening?" His hips began to bounce like a sting of firecrackers dancing off the pavement. I lifted my head to watch his adorable face as passion claimed him for the first time.
When he opened his eyes a minute later, he smiled. "Man that felt fucking fantastic!" He looked up at the ceiling then back at me. "Thanks."
"It was a pleasure. You have a great cock, Chad. You're going to grow into quite a man.
"No wonder everyone is always talking about sex!" He looked at my cock, which in the absence of his caress, was once again straining against the waistband of my BVDs. "When I do that to you, won't I get sperms--cum--in my mouth?"
"You can just use your hand, if you want. Or I can warn you so you can move away before it shoots."
"Maybe you just do the thing Derek's brother does."
"Chad, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than make love to you, but it would hurt you, and I don't want to do that."
"Derek says it ain't so bad."
"You told me Derek said no to him."
"Sorry that I lied, but I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone."
I lay on my back next to him. Chad got to his knees and sat across my erection. He looked down at my face with an impish grin.
I grunted. "So why did he tell you?" His naked buttocks squirmed on the bulge in my underwear. I had been so hot for so long, my balls ached.
Before answering, he pinched my nipple. I moaned in appreciation, and he took the hint, pinching and scraping his fingernail across my nubs. "His brother wanted me to join them. I got a little freaked out, though. Haven't seen Derek since."
He moved off me to remove my underpants. Then he sat back down. "Put it in me."
"I can't hurt you, Chad. I love you too much for that."
"You love me?"
"From the moment I saw you. I'm sorry if that upsets you."
"I love you, too, but I'm not used to people loving me." He wiggled his butt, nearly sending me over the edge. "Derek said if you use something slippery it doesn't hurt as much."
"Maybe some other time we can do it. Right now, I'd like you to jack me off."
He licked up my cock, which dripped of pre-cum and pressed it against his butt. It was slippery and slid off target. "You really want to do this, don't you?"
I sighed. "Wait here." I scrambled into the bathroom and grabbed the Vaseline. I slicked my cock with it, then said, "Roll onto your side and pull your top leg us so your knee touches your chest." I moved in behind him and smeared a fingerful of Vaseline on his crack.
He craned his head to look back at me and said, "Hey, that feels good."
I pressed my index finger against his tiny little rosebud. It slid in with quite a bit of resistance, but a moment later, he relaxed. "This is wild. No one ever touched me there before."
"It's a good sign that you like this part. Eventually you may like being fucked. But for now, it's going to be unpleasant." I moved my finger in wide circle and was amazed at how elastic his sphincter was. I fingered him for another minute, then said, "I've got to shoot and you need to be loosened up more. Maybe I could put it between your thighs and dry hump you."
"No. Just do it." He craned around in frustration. "You think I'm a baby. I can take a little pain, you know."
"Sorry," I said, thinking of his scars and what it must have felt like to have someone try to skin you. Normally, that would have been enough to make me lose all interest in sex. But it was the first time in my life I was naked and in bed with a beautiful boy.
I touched my cock to his anus and asked, "Are you sure?"
I pressed against the hot little hole, but didn't gain access. I felt like I was right on the verge of orgasm. "Listen, I'm going to cum before I get inside. You have me so hot I could die of a heart attack."
"Push harder," he said beginning to sound quite angry at me.
My conscience took a break and I jabbed at him. Only the glans went inside but that was enough to get me off. I moaned and wriggled against him as I pumped my seed into his rectum. When I relaxed I realized he hadn't even cried out in pain. Still inside him, I lay close and tickled at his ear. "You okay?" I asked.
"It hurts at first, but not now."
"Well, I'm already done. Want me to pull out?"
"I feel really close to you. Do you still like me?"
I kissed his ear. "I love you. Can we snuggle like this for awhile, with my cock in your ass. It's like we're connected. That's as close as two people can get."
We lay connected for hours. Sometime in the middle of the night, I awakened, realizing Chad was awake and uncomfortable. Then I noticed for the first time the sounds coming from his next door apartment. The bed was banging against the wall and a woman (his mother?) groaned and swore like a wild animal. Chad could tell I was awake, because he said, "She likes getting fucked."
I ran my hand soothingly across his stomach and chest. "How do you feel about that?"
"It's her business, I guess. And after tonight, it makes more sense to me why she likes it. But why does she have to hang out with total losers?"
I couldn't have agreed with him more, but I asked, "Why do you call them losers?"
"All they want to do is hurt her. They spit on her and beat her and stuff. Why can't she find someone who loves her--?"
I struggled for something to say. After the wall banging stopped and we had lain in silence for a couple minutes, he added, "--like I did."
"I don't know, Chad. It's usually pretty easy to find someone to fuck with. It's a lot harder to find someone to make love with."
He scratched at his crotch and wiggled his ass. My cock, flaccid but firmly squeezed by his sphincter, twitched in response. "I think it is getting big again," he observed.
"Want me to take it out."
"No. I want to stay like this all night long."
I did stay inside him all night long. And had three more orgasms inside him. I maybe gave him a dozen orgasms in my fingertips. In the morning he was in the bathroom for a very long time. Then we showered together and ate breakfast in the nude.
"What do you want to do today?" I asked.
"Aren't you going to make me go home?"
"Chad, anytime I'm home you are welcome here. In fact, I'll give you a key in case you need somewhere to go and I'm not here."
He beamed. "Cool. I've always wanted a place to hang out."
"Oh, I forgot about losing our bet. What movie do you want to go see?"
He leaped to his feet, which made his cock bounce up and slap his belly. "Wow! Thanks!"
I repeated, "Which one would you like to see?'
"I don't care. I've just always wanted to see one."
"You've never seen a movie?" His exuberance faded into insecurity. Quickly I added, "I'd love to take you to your first movie. That'll make it special for me too." Over the next 3 years, I had the opportunity to share a number of "firsts" in Chad's life. Though he's in college and is engaged to a sorority girl, I love him still.
Well, you made it to The End. If that means you liked it, please let me know. I need encouragement. Also, I need inspiration and am interested in finding a few good friends. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read it. You can probably reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org