Copyright 2002 by Nicholas6996@hotmail.com
This is a fictional story of holiday giving between friends, young and old. If you don't like friendship, don't read it. If you don't like love, I'm sorry for you. If you are not old enough to legally read this, find your friend and have him read it to you.
Thanks for your continued emails. It's been a little difficult with someone (or ones) deciding to bombard me with a couple of dozen malicious files, but I've also received many kind wishes and greetings. I hope your New Year's was a success. This is the last chapter of Stephy's story. I think I've made it a happy ending, let me know if you think so too.
Stocking Stuffer Part 10 Denouement
"But, Dad," Scotty was in mid whine when he heard what Gene had said. He looked at Stephy and said, almost in awe, "Wait, he said YES, he said Yes! You get to come over!"
"Whoopee!" they both shouted and started dancing around.
Trying to get them settled down again and getting Scotty dressed and ready to go almost made the joke a backfire. I still had a lot to learn about 'winding up the clock' right before bedtime! Finally, Gene and Scotty were gone, Stephy and I had cleaned up the kitchen and we were cuddling in the chair enjoying the fire when Stephy asked, "Did I really hear angels?"
"Oh yes, babe," and I scooted him off me and turned on the CD player, "They were here, singing just for you." We cuddled back together and fell asleep listening to the angels.
The next day was a blur of boy activity. Stephy could hardly wait for it to be time to go. Gene told me Scotty had been up an hour earlier than normal, watching at the window every ten minutes for us to arrive. We had no sooner arrived than Scotty dragged Steph off to his room. There was a hoot and holler and Stephy was yelling, "Nick! Nick! Come here."
Even though I didn't think anything could have happened that quick, I made a panicked dash for the kids room, Gene right behind.
"Look," Stephy danced and pointed at Scotty's bookshelf, "He has all your books!"
"Those are MY books," Scotty protested.
Gene hooting and laughing said, "I knew I had seen your face somewhere! Look Scotty, inside the back dust jacket. They are your books, but they are Nick's too! He wrote them."
Well, we had a laugh and Scotty was awed that Stephy had me for a friend. He had read all the books and loved the boy protagonists. Needless to say, I autographed and personalized each copy. Remind me to write these, my boys, into the next story line!
They played a while and then Gene sprung the Two Towers movie idea on them. I thought we'd have to scraped them off the ceiling.
After the movie we had the usual high spirits and whooping and hollering, but as we got to the car, Stephy calmed down and asked, "Uh, Nick, can we go for pizza again."
Scotty hooted, "Yes! Donatello's!" and then seemed to sober up completely. "Really, Steph? We don't have to go there."
"Yes, we do," said my boy. "It wasn't the pizza and it wasn't Donatello's. I want to go back."
When we got there, you could see Steph steel himself to get out of the car. He made it inside just fine, but he must have crushed Scotty's hand he held it so tight. Coming out he was more relaxed until he hit the parking lot. Then it was my hand he was crushing as we walked to the car. You could see him sigh and the tension drain as soon as we closed the door.
"That was very brave, Steph. We're all proud of you." Gene said, as Stephy melted into me with Scotty clinging to the other side.
We went back to Gene's and the boys played some more, when once again Steph called us to Scott's room.
"Look at these kewl movies Scott made!" he demanded. And cool they were. Gene explained that he had just gotten Scotty the newest camera for Christmas, but that Scott had been into homemade claymation for a year or more. He had a great Macintosh setup and if I thought the video games were complicated, you should have seen the little studio in the basement and all the radio dials and buttons and choices in the editing software he was using! I was way impressed.
Gene showed me some of his art and we talked about our work. After a few months off when Scotty arrived on his doorstep, Gene had gone back to painting. With Scott as help they did many art shows in the warmer months. Gene said they had quite a business going where Scott would photograph customers at the show and then Gene would finish a portrait. He said business was more than double what it was before Scotty had the photography idea. It was all digital, so after the camera expense there was no cost of prints, etc. and they would give the customer the whole package after payment. He said he kept the retail job for something to do in winter, and because he felt he could give back to our community, as he had with Steph and me.
We made plans to have a little New Years Eve party at their house. We'd invite Brian and Tommy and the six of us would see if anyone could stay awake to toast the New Year. Then on New Year's Day, they'd come to my place and we'd have a football pig out! The kids thought it all sounded great. Scotty was already telling Steph how he wanted to do another movie and they decided what he should bring and what they could find at our place.
The New Year's Eve party was fun. The kids managed to get us old fogies up in time to see the ball drop, but we headed home at about 2 minutes past midnight.
Steph and I were in bed in another 2 minutes. As Steph came sliding across the sheets to his normal position, I could hear him almost purring. "Hold me!" he demanded and who am I to deny this boy anything. I held him and then he crawled up and began kissing me. First a tentative little peck, then a nibble, then a full blown, get those lips open, I'm going to swallow your tongue, kiss. He tasted sweet and wonderful and I couldn't get enough of him. His little tongue running across my lips, then playing tongue tag had me stiff as a board in seconds. When he left my mouth and began to devour my eyes and cheeks and ears and throat I knew I was back in heaven. I could feel his rock hard boyhood against my stomach and I reached down with one free hand first cupped his wonderful little butt, then dove below to take his stalk between my fingers. His whole body stiffened and he moaned his pleasure as he tried to lick one of my ears off. I flipped us both over so Steph was now on the bottom and sitting back a little I commanded, "Relax, sweetie. This is just for you!"
I took his bone between my fingers and began to dance it up and down and around. He moaned and sighed as I stroked him. I paused to cup his balls and rolled them first singly and then together around the palm of my hand. He began a wilder thrashing and I knew he was close, so I returned to his straining cocklet and sliding up its length, I squeezed the head and left it. Tracing circles on his tummy and twiddling first one tiny nipple and then the other, I drove my boy back down a step from his pending orgasm. He groaned and thrashed some more, but I knew I wanted to make this the best he'd ever felt. Moving down again to his tender balls, I squeezed them once, then took them between my lips. The sudden heat and the pressure made him really jump. I opened and letting them drop, I took my finger in and got it slitheringly wet. Taking his cock to the hilt, I also touched his rosebud with my moistened finger and circled and pressed against its tiny lips. He bucked and moaned, but didn't draw away.
"Yes," he groaned. "Yes! I want you there. Make me cum, please make me cum!"
I ground my lips into his pelvis and twirled his dick with my tongue and suddenly he opened to my finger. I was inside my boy and touching his velvet channel. Then I found his little button and massaging gently, I lathed his dick like a mad man and he must have seen the stars. He lifted from the bed and screamed his trademark, "Mphhhh, Mphhhh, MPHHHH!" and fell back in my arms.
New Year's Day dawned warm and bright. The snow was melting away in little rivers and it looked like it would be a great day to watch football. After a breakfast of pancakes and syrup, Steph helped me move the TV to the living room and we tidied it up some. It was a nice room with sliding doors to the back yard, but no fireplace. In the spring and summer it was the focus of the house, but I don't think Stephy had even been in it. We preferred the warmth and intimacy of the study during the long cold winter nights.
Steph chattered away about how he'd never had a real party before. As we made trays of cheese slices and grapes and fruit I was amazed at how he could dress a plate. I'd have just had the stuff dumped wily nilly, but he managed to arrange the food in artful patterns of shapes and colors. He was fascinated by the crockpot as I dumped in a huge package of meatballs. When I opened and added a giant jar of grape jelly and a bottle of barbeque sauce his eyes were as big as saucers.
"That's gonna taste GROSS!" he declared.
I'd never joked with him like this, but I couldn't resist the temptation. Scooping a little of the mixture on my fingers, I quickly knelt and wiped them on his own little tasty meatballs and quickly licked it off again. "Don't think so Tiger. I think it tastes heavenly!"
He gasped, then squirmed, then giggled, then fell down laughing. "Just wait Mister! I'll get you for that one!" he laughed as I began a little tickle fest. Soon we were both rolling on the kitchen floor, laughing and panting.
As I let him up for air, he just hugged me and whispered, "Love you Nick!"
We puttered around for another hour or so and then I turned on the Rose Parade. Again, he surprised me with, "Kewl, I've never seen a parade." I couldn't believe the depths of boyhood my Tiger had missed, and the depths of debasement he had been made to endure.
Gene and Scotty arrived bearing their own crockpot and soon we had two simmering sources of delicious smells which kept drawing my Tiger into the kitchen by his nose. Little Smokies and Meatballs, what could be better for a football pigout? Arranging everything on the counter buffet style, I explained to the boys we would not be having lunch. I managed to get past their protestations enough to say, "It's open grazing. That means you just come in any time and get whatever you want."
"Kewl!" they said in unison and immediately filled plates with everything. I'm glad I bought the small sized plastic plates or we would have been out of food in the first two minutes!
Gene and I sat back to watch football. The boys alternated between football and eating, football and internet surfing and football and the mini movie studio Scotty had brought along. They played happily until about two thirty when they were obviously getting bored with us old guys just sitting around and eating chips and tidbits. Gene and I both noticed them stop playing and huddle for a couple of minutes, with a raised eyebrow, I asked him what was up. He just signaled back with a shrug, wait and see. Sure enough, as they broke the huddle, Steph headed for me and Scotty headed for Gene, but it was Steph who must have lost the toss.
"Uh, Nick," he hesitantly began. "Scotty and I were wondering, uh, you know, uh, this is kind of boring. Could we maybe get my TV and hook up the GameCube to it?"
Now this was interesting! "Your TV?" I asked.
"You know, from next door. It's not like anybody's using it. And beside, it's a small one, so I'm sure we could carry it over here. Please?"
Now here was a poser. The kid from next door had been abused and abandoned by his mother. He'd been living, and I hoped growing, with me for over a week. Would taking the TV from his empty house be stealing? I decided, what the hell. As far as I was concerned anything over there belonged to him and he would just be moving it to his new digs.
Glancing at Gene with a here we go look, I answered, "I guess we could do that. It is yours and we wouldn't be stealing it. You take us over and we'll see if we can move it."
"Thanks, Nick. I Love You!" he hugged into my chest.
Stirring myself, we all headed out the side door and around to his house's back door. I could see him visibly stiffen and shudder, but he opened the door and led us in.
I was shocked. My baby had been living in this? This was on my own block? The stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke just about knocked you down. We had entered through the kitchen and I could see why being trapped in this room would be scary without a dog! There was nothing in it. No chairs, no table. Glancing at the counters I saw there was no coffee pot, no toaster, in fact none of the stuff that can quickly overtake a normal kitchen. Standing in the right hand sink there was one glass and one spoon and bowl, perfectly clean, but forlorn among the nothing everywhere else. I did notice that the tile floor and counters were spotlessly clean and I groaned at what my sweetie had been forced to do and clean in this room.
Moving to the dining and living room combination, it was another story. This area was a shambles. There was a ratty couch and love seat and a coffee table covered with empty beer cans and several ashtrays overflowing with huge piles of cigarette ashes and butts. The couch had a soiled sheet across it and on the filthy carpet there was a small pile of obviously used condoms which had leaked and stained the spot where they had been thrown. Across the room there was a 19 inch TV on a table that was almost crowded out by empty beer cans and liquor bottles. One long dead plant stood in the corner and it too had been turned into an ashtray. Across the end table between the couch and love seat there was the paraphernalia of smoking god knows what; roll your own cigarette papers, small cocaine pipes, little balls of tin foil and a scattering of must have been raw marijuana.
Stephy took my hand tightly and pointed to the TV. "That's it," he whisphe.
"Oh babe, I'm so sorry," I said hugging him to me. "Can you find a towel or something? Let's wipe it off before we move it."
"'K," he said, moving toward a hallway, but not letting go of my hand.
Leading me down the hall we passed an empty bedroom and then came to two closed doors. "This is my room," he whispered, before opening the one to the left. I almost cried. There was nothing here. A pile of blankets and a pillow on the floor, but no bed, no desk, no dresser, nothing. A few clothes folded neatly in one corner, but no toys, no books, no games. Nothing that said a boy lived here for eleven years, except a neat little pile of school papers arranged almost in a place of honor beneath the curtainless window.
Taking me on to another door, he opened it to a small bath, spotless like the kitchen and the bedroom, but just as devoid of the objects of life. There was one towel and he lifted it and turned to face me. I saw the tears streaming down his face, and I rushed to pick him up and hold him and tell him it was all right. I comforted him as I carried him back to the living room.
Scotty and Gene had moved some of the garbage away from the TV, and Scotty took the towel and wiped it down. Gene unplugged it and managed to lift it even missing the one hand that Scotty wouldn't let go. We quickly turned and walked from the house and carried the TV back to our house.
As Gene set it in the kitchen and Scotty got a washcloth to really give it a cleaning, I thought of that little pile of school papers. "Steph, school starts again Monday. Do you have any school books or papers we need to get?"
"Oh, I didn't think!" he moaned. "Yes, my homework's back over there. We've got to get that or I'll really get it Monday."
"Okay, let's go and get it and then you never have to go back." I promised.
"'K," he said.
Gene and Scotty stayed to hook up the TV and I carried Steph back through his nightmares one more time to get his school things.
Just as he picked up his books and I picked up his old papers, we heard a broken mufflered car pull into the drive. As a look of terror crossed Steph's face, the backdoor slammed open and a woman was yelling, "Hey you little shit. You still in here? Don't smell like you're dead at least!"
Steph completely blanched and dropping his books ran to me and moaned, "It's Mom!"
As I cradled him, she burst into the hallway. It was obvious she was drunk or stoned, she could barely stand without using the wall for support. Spotting me holding Steph, she let out a terrible cackle of laughter.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Neighbor. I wondered if the little shit would find somebody to sucker, or maybe I should say suck! I always watched you watching him mow your yard. I figured you for a faggot. Well, I don't fucking care. Suck him, fuck him, what ever. He'll shit all over everything before you have your fun. I'm here for my stash. You didn't touch it, did ya'" and she quickly turned and opened the other door showing a bedroom as full of furniture as Stephy's was without. But even with the bed and dresser and dressing table, the room was a mess and smelled of stale beer, stale cigarettes and stale sex. Stephy had obviously cleaned the areas of the house he needed and left the rest to there own fate.
Stumbling to the dresser, she pulled a drawer out and reached up underneath the framework. Bringing out a large envelope, she opened it and sighed relief that whatever her stash was, it hadn't been touched. "Okay, I'm done here. Take the worthless little shit and fuck him or sell him for all I care. I'm going to Florida where it's warm and there's lots of rich guys who'll like a girl who likes her fun. Say, wait a minute. Speaking of selling. I had me a fancy pants shyster a while back who wanted to buy that worthless little faggot. Gave me some papers to sign and everything. Bastard ran out on me before he came up with the cash though. You got two hundred bucks? I'll give you the papers for two hundred bucks and then all your fucking the little shit will be nice and legal. Here, look at these, you don't believe me!" and she pulled a second smaller envelope from the first and thrust it at me.
Setting Steph down, but keeping him behind me I reached out for what she was holding. Opening it I almost cried for joy. Here was a complete guardianship agreement, and birth certificate, a power of attorney and a medical power of attorney all filled out with her name, Steph's name and blanks to fill in the guardian. I stared in amazement, the papers were already notarized and the guardianship had the official seal of the state and county and appeared to be already filed with the court as it bore a judges signature and that of the clerk of court too. How this had happened I didn't know, but if they were real and legal, two hundred dollars would never have covered the lawyer fees to get them drawn up. If they weren't, what was two hundred dollars anyway.
Reaching for my wallet, I counted out two hundred in tens and twenties and just on a hunch, I counted out fifty more and said, "Okay, you got a deal. But I want all the other papers, too."
I could see she was salivating at the money in my hands and she quickly turned and pulled another drawer out and ripped another envelope from the dresser. "Cagey bastard, aren't ya' Here, fuck him with pleasure. They say he gives better head than me, the little shit!"
Snatching the money from my hands she stumbled from the house and we heard the car roar to life and screech its way down the street.
Gene came running in shouting, "Nick, Steph, Scotty, are you guys okay?" I thrust the envelopes in his hand and turned and grabbed Stephy into my arms. He was still as death and I could see the terror still in his eyes. He clung to my neck like there was no tomorrow. Turning back to Gene I said almost with panic in my voice, "What do you mean is Scotty okay. Wasn't he with you?"
"I'm okay, Dad, Nick," his little voice popped up. "I saw her drive up and I just knew she was Steph's mom. I grabbed my camera and I got the whole thing on film. She never even saw me. She's a real shit head Steph. I'm glad you've got Nick! Dad, you should have seen it. She sold Steph to Nick. I've got it on tape! She can never change her mind, cause she'd go right to jail! Nick was so cool! And Steph was so brave, he just stood there and stared her down. I Love You guys" he danced and laughed.
"Let's get out of here," I said. "Gene can you get those school books? I don't ever want to come back or make Steph come back here again."
Gene grabbed the books and papers along with the envelopes. Scotty had his camera and I had Steph. If the other neighbors knew the drama behind our little procession back to my house they would have been shocked.
When we got there, Scotty played the movie for his Dad and I could see Gene's eyes get wide. "She really did sell him to you. She's dead meat if she ever tries to do anything. Scotty, I'm so proud of you. That was brave and daring and it'll make Steph safe for the rest of his life." and he scooped his boy into a giant hug.
I was looking through the other papers to see if my first impression was right and I was amazed. They still appeared to be exactly what they were. Just filling in my name would make Steph mine forever.
Gene looked over my shoulder and whistled, "Wow, that's something. I wonder if they're legal. I'll get Brian to ask our lawyer friend to look this over. What's in the other envelope?"
I hadn't even looked yet, but when I opened it I blanched and then said, "I don't know, it looks like a bunch of polaroids."
I dumped them on the table and Steph cuddled closer, but didn't shy away from them. I turned them up one by one and they were all of my boy. He was always naked and being diddled on someone's lap, or sucking them, or being sucked. I could see the faces on all the men, and I knew this was his mother's blackmail stash. Then the last few pictures took my breath away. There was the dog, licking my boy, then humping him while he lay on the floor in a little ball then standing beside his master and my Steph sprawled on the floor.
"That's him," Steph shuddered. "That's the man that was going to buy me for his dog."
"Jeeze," whistled Gene. "That explains the paper work. That's District Court Judge Jones! That stuff's legal as gold and I bet, blank like that, it's also as illegal as hell. We're definitely talking to our lawyer friend now, but I bet you just drew the ace in the hole for Steph to live here as long as he wants."
"Really," Steph pleaded. "Do you own me now? Do I get to stay forever?"
"Yes and no, Tiger," I answered. "You own yourself and regardless of all this, you get to stay forever and ever, if that's what you want."
"I Love You, Dad." he said and all four of us were crying tears of joy.
Thanks for reading Steph and Nick's story. I hope you have as great a New Year as they've been blessed with. Yes, the Libera CD is real. Its a Warners release. A meatball recipe can be found at:
but it's just as good to buy the prepared meatballs and add the jelly and BBQ sauce while cooking.
I can't offer you autographed copies of my books, unfortunately they are just figments of my imagination for this story.
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