Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2007 02:22:53 -0700 (PDT) From: Mark Adams Subject: Temptation of Adam - Chapter 7 Disclaimer ------------------------------------------------------------------------ This story is a work of fiction. It contains sexual content between underage and adult males which may be inappropriate or illegal where you live. I do not condone the actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story. If you are offended by this or if it is illegal where you live, please go no further. Why would you? Author's Note ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I hate interrupting the flow of the story for these thoughts and I hope they don't detract from story, but I'm neurotic enough that I must. Scroll down a bit if you prefer. I reread the entire story up to this point this afternoon to see where I'd left off and saw more typos than I would have expected. Argh! At least they don't affect the story line. More disturbing to me, however, I noticed Adam's studio apartment from Chapter 1 spontaneously turned into a two bedroom apartment somehow. So... let's pretend that, upon their meeting, Mark was so taken with young Adam that he lapsed into a two or three paragraph dream sequence about the studio apartment? And now we return to the story... ....she took the fruit therof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. Gen. 3:6 ....From the last chapter... "I really need a shower," was Adam's only comment. He didn't try to cover himself, instead just sort of pinching the foreskin atop his wiener, sort of rubbing it between his fingers. I'd already taken more than I deserved, but I cupped his firm little rump in my hands and then lightly swatting his bum. "Go on then," I told him. "Get showered up and we'll go get something to eat, ok?" I gave him my friendliest smile, as if to say everything was good. He turned around and scampered around the corner and into the bathroom, his tiny butt wiggling as a walked. He hadn't closed the bathroom door and I could hear the water of the shower being turned on. I sat back onto my butt, propping myself against the door to the garage and adjusting my raging hardon. Ana's words came back to haunt me. "What if he asked you to cross that line?" she had asked. "Would you still be so strong?" Temptation of Adam - Chapter 7 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I thought about his mother's words, and a couple thoughts came to mind. I obviously was not as strong as I had thought. And I don't remember Adam ever asking me to undress him; he certainly did not need any assistance from me. I tried to tell myself he was asking for it, though not with words, but those are the words of a monster. Had I stolen from a child? A child I professed to love? No, Adam had definitely not asked me to cross any line at all. In fact, I had commanded him to strip and he complied only after protesting. And I mocked him for his modesty. But he wasn't scared, and was even somewhat encouraging. I was conflicted, and found myself wishing I had never allowed Adam into my home while, at the exact same moment, thanking God for bringing him into my life. I vowed not to even approach 'that line' unless explicitly invited by Adam himself. My erection having subsided enough that I could comfortably stand, I started the washer and began picking through Adam's meager wardrobe, putting his articles of clothing into the appliance one at a time. When I saw his Mickey underwear in the basket, I remembered the piece of clothing in my pocket and my penis lurched, slamming the brakes on its detumescence and revving back up to its preferred state. As I pulled them slowly from my pants, I lifted the pair of underwear and inspected them. Dirty, but not a sign of poor hygiene. A little yellowing in front, but nothing in back. Surprising, but nice. I looked over my shoulder toward the bathroom door and, still hearing the shower running, I drew them to my face, inhaling their intoxicating aroma, the essence of Adam captured in cotton. They smelled funky, but in a very erotic way and I found that strange. My dick was fully hard now. I guess I had become a full-fledged pervert in less than a day. My cock had been up and down for most of the afternoon and I needed some release. Pulling down my trousers and underwear beneath my balls, I rubbed Adam's underwear along my straining erection. There was some precum leaking from my slit (unusual for me) and I knew I wasn't going to last long. Which was fine with me since I didn't know how much time I had. I thought of Adam standing in the dressing room, pulling up on his underwear. The sight of him fully naked in my laundry room. Eight, twelve, sixteen strokes and I was volleying a tremendous load onto Spidey's face, crouched down as he was on the spot where Adam's penis belonged. My knees nearly buckled, and my breathing was heavy. My God, that was intense. As I recovered, I zipped up and threw the rest of Adam's clothes into the wash, including all but the new outfit he'd worn out of the store, and debated about the little cum-soaked briefs. As the horniness subsided, the guilt started seeping in around the edges. Had I just crossed into an area from which there was no return? And yet I opted to fold his little briefs and, instead of adding them to the wash, I elected to keep them. For later... ? I exited the laundry room and paused by the open bathroom door where Adam was showering. Behind that thin, opaque curtain was Adam, singing some made up song. Naked. His treble voice was that of an angel's and, although it was not loud, I felt as though I could actually feel the vibrations of his perfect voice in my chest. I listened for a bit longer until I heard the water shut off. I wanted nothing more than to remain in that position, leaning against the door frame, but I pulled myself away, heading to my bedroom as I heard the rings of the curtain sliding against the rod. After placing his now sodden boy briefs in the drawer of my nightstand, I went into the kitchen to wait for my new little friend. I found myself a little hungry and grabbed the last apple from my fruit stand and took it out, rinsing it thoroughly. "Don't want to consume any Alar, right?" I thought to myself, chuckling. I turned back to the breakfast bar, leaning against it, and took a bite as I saw Adam coming from the hall into the family room wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Cue the burlesque music in my mind's soundtrack. "Hey, Mark," Adam said as he saw me. "do you have my clothes?" he asked as he rounded the bar and entered the kitchen. I looked down and noticed nothing but a little bump in the front of the towel. "Sure," I said, "they're in the laundry room. I'll go get them." I saw him licking his lips a little as he eyed the apple. "Feeling hungry yet?" I asked knowingly. "Yeah," he replied. "May I have an apple?" he asked, remembering to use his recently acquired knowledge, and I smiled. "Sorry, buddy," I told him. "This is the last one. Do you want it?" "We can share it, can't we?" he asked innocently. I wasn't at all sure why, but the thought of eating after him was somehow a little erotic. I'm normally a little bit phobic of sharing food or drink. I extended my hand, offering him the apple, and I wondered if I was playing 'Eve' to my Adam. That thought had a lot of repercussions. As he brought the apple to his mouth, I noticed he had not chosen a fresh area from which to bite, as is the custom, but instead sampled from where I had bitten. "Mmm," he said, his mouth closed, but full of the fruit. Juice coated his lips, making them shine even more, and dribbled at the corner of his lips and I smiled. Never before had I enjoyed watching someone eat as I did at this moment. He handed the apple back to me and I deliberately bit from the cavern we had left in the apple. As I did so, he reached up and wiped away the juice from the corners of his mouth, smiling at me as he did so. His hand was suspended in the air for a moment before he reached out and rubbed his wet fingers across my shirt and burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, man!" I exclaimed, laughing at his playful gesture. "What's *that* about?" He laughed out loud, his mouth still partially full of apple, and reached out again, smearing the small amount of juice onto the leg of my pants. I screeched, set the apple on the bar, and grabbed him around his toweled waist, lifting him up into a bear hug. "I'll teach you to wipe your nasty paws on me!" I yelled in mock horror as he squealed with delight. I began tickling him viciously and he was laughing hard, that kind of laughter you can only coax out of a child. I gave him maybe 3 seconds to recover before continuing my assault. He was ticklish everywhere, it seemed, and I attacked his pits, his sides, his back. I looked over and saw Casey on the back of the couch, watching with amusement and just a touch of concern with how I was treating her boy. He lost his grip on the towel as he gyrated in my arms, trying to fend off the tickling, and I noticed it was starting to slip off his hips. Remembering my vow, I held it in place for him as I eased off on the tickle torture and returned him to his feet. He was still smiling and laughing gently as he came down from his high. "I thought I was going to lose my towel!" he said, looking at me for my reaction as he held the towel, pinched between his fingers and thumb. "You would've liked that, huh?" he asked, and there was no shame on his face. Just a knowing grin. "Yes," I replied truthfully. "Yes, I would have liked that very much, Adam." "Surprise!" he yelled, and my heart stopped as he lifted his arm, letting go of the towel. And... it just hung there on his waist! He looked down to the towel, his brow furrowed. Not accepting his surprise being ruined, he shook his hips like he was playing with a hula hoop and the towel slowly, seductively slid from his hips to the floor, exposing his... Underwear. He was wearing his his Incredible Hulk underwear, and I noticed the cartoon character on the front of his briefs did indeed appear incredible. Adam looked to be about half erect and, perhaps because I now knew, I could see the funnel-shaped outline of the tip of his ample little foreskin protruding in the fabric. He shrieked in laughter at the expression on my face. "I got you!" he squealed, proud of himself and pointing at me. "I got you *so* good!" "Yes you did," I conceded. "You planned this whole thing, didn't you?" I asked, still laughing. He raised his eyebrows up and down repeatedly like Groucho Marx. I was impressed he had planned such a clever joke. "You thought you were going to see my thing again!" he exclaimed again, still laughing like a little boy, which I suppose he was... His right hand shot to his bulge and he pinched his peter absent-mindedly between his thumb and finger. "I admit, I did," I returned. "Come here, you scamp." He laughed and hopped up into my arms, and I placed a hand under his cotton-clad bottom to support him against my hip. His place. "That was too easy," he said, his voice calming down a few notches now. His hand was still resting atop his groin. He looked up into my eyes and I marveled again at their sheer beauty. One could get lost staring into those mesmerizing orbs. I hugged his head to me, placing my left hand on his cheek. "I love you, Adam," I told him gently. "I love you, too, Mark." It didn't sound like a pat response. He sounded genuine. After a second or two, he said "I'll let you see my pee pee again later, if you like?" "You don't have to do that for me, Adam," I told him as I caressed his cheek bone with my thumb. "I just like being with you." "I *love* being with you, Mark," he said, emphasizing the word love. "But I want to show you..." "Let's talk about that after dinner," I said, cutting him off. "Let's get ready, ok?" I carried him to the bathroom and set him down on the tiled floor. He picked up the comb to do his hair and I noticed there was still a little fullness in his the front of his Hulk undies. Damn, he was so gorgeous and had no idea. "So you're still hungry?" I asked, admiring the way he he looked while combing his hair. I have always thought watching a boy trying to comb his hair was cute. Something it takes an adult (male, at least) no effort at all seems like a major undertaking for a boy. The tip of his tongue was again poked out between his lips, concentrating on the task at hand, trying to get his part just so. I thought of offering to help him, but remembered how my last attempt at assistance ended up. "Uh-huh," he said. "Almost done." He swiped at his hair a few more times before nodding his head once to the mirror, pronouncing it good. He turned and faced me, his hands raised up as if to say "Ta da!" It looked like a kid had combed his hair the way a parent might expect, but missing the mark. "How's it look?" he asked me. "Delicious," I said without thinking, and Adam giggled. "Fantastic, it looks just perfect," I corrected. "Let me get your clothes. Hang on." When I returned with his clothing, he was still messing with his hair. "My hair's too long," he informed me. "It is?" I asked him. "I think it looks nice. We could get it cut though, if you want," and then added "and if your mom says it's ok." "Cool," he said, turning around and coming toward me. I started to hand him his clothes, but he said "Would you help me?" He looked up to me and I could see he was suppressing a smile. "Sure," I told him. "Sit down on the toilet." He sat, and I kneeled before my prince upon his throne. I was holding his foot, preparing to put his sock on his lovely foot. Now ordinarily, I'm not a 'foot person' at all. They're somewhat ugly and just for walking. And they stink. But Adam's feet were something special. He didn't have any toes too fat, too long, or too short. His nails were not too long, jagged, or too short and had no grunge beneath them. They were as soft as silk and ticklish, too, judging by his little jerks and giggles as I touched them. I was confused by my sudden desire to smell them, to kiss them. Of course, I restrained myself. "Like my feet?" he questioned me, snapping me out of my reverie. "I like every part of you, Adam," I told him sincerely, and slid his socks onto his feet. I reached over and grabbed his jeans, sliding each precious foot into on of the legs. "Up," I commanded and he obeyed. I slid his jeans up over his shapely calf muscles and up past his defined thighs, and pulled them onto his rear. As I did so, his bulge, smaller now, remained protruding from the jeans. "Tuck me in?" he asked quietly. I paused and glanced up to his smiling face. I gently eased his tiny package into the pants with the back of my hand, trying to feel and memorize everything my hand touched. I took just a little longer than was necessary and I felt his little root fluffing up a bit when I stopped, carefully zipped him up, and buttoned his top button. He sat back on the toilet seat. I stood, the bulge of my half erect member showing slightly as I slid on my fairy tale prince's shoes and he sighed as I laced them. "Those feel *so* much better than my old shoes. Thank you again, Mark." He reached out and tentatively placed the palm of his hand on my bulge, but I backed up just a bit, smiling and smoothing down my front. "Absolutely my pleasure," I responded. I fetched his shirt and put it over his head, being ever so careful not to muss his masterpiece. He fished his arms into the arm holes one at a time as opened them for him. "All done," I announced. "Ready for din-din now?" I asked. "Yes, " he said, "but I need to brush my teeth first." I was pleasantly surprised. Most boys have to be hounded to brush. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you," I teased, and he laughed. He went and got a toothbrush and toothpaste from his bag and quickly scrubbed his pearly whites. *** We had agreed on a popular New Mexican restaurant for dinner. Not too expensive, and somewhat nearby. We drove the Miata with the top up for fear of messing up his damp hair. As we waited be seated, Adam sat in my lap on the couches in the entry since the waiting area was crowded. I had my arms wrapped around his tummy, my hands laced together, resting atop his lap. A young, attractive lady sitting across from us with a 7 or 8 year old girl on her lap made eye contact with me and I nodded to her. "How old's your son?" she asked me. "Ten," I said. "...and a half," Adam piped up, and we all laughed lightly. I know Adam was digging the thought that someone else believed we were father and son. I thought about it a moment and realized he probably did look like my boy. I had blond hair and green eyes (I've been told they're my best feature), a nice nose, and I imagine if I'd married a Latina we could have created this beauty... when I was 13! But I guess because he looked a little younger, most people would probably never do the math. "Your son?" she asked and I nodded. "He is absolutely adorable," she told me, and I thanked her, complimenting her on her little girl. "He has beautiful eyes and such long lashes," she mentioned, and I had to agree. "People are always saying that about Adam," I replied. This was our first 'date' of course and, as I looked down to Adam's face, he smiled up at me, knowing our ruse was working well. She spied the absence of a wedding band on my finger. I caught that. "Is it just the boys' night out?" the nosy woman inquired. "My parents are divorced," Adam interrupted and put on a little pout. God, we were such liars. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry to hear that." She wasn't as skilled at lying, I guess. "Me, too," she continued sheepishly. On the make, I guess. Little did she know she was no competition... but still I was flattered. "Are you a bodybuilder?" her little girl asked me over the noise of the restaurant. Now, people really do always ask me that. "Kara, honey," her mom said to her girl, "that's not polite," which I didn't understand at all. I didn't think that was rude. "No, it's fine. I get that all the time, too," I said, laughing modestly and looking a little embarrassed. "I do work out," I told little Kara, "but I'm not a professional bodybuilder. They're much, much larger than me." Maybe true in more ways than one. I was guessing her mom was thinking (like most) that big chest and biceps equals big cock. I was only slightly larger than average in that department at just over 6 inches and not overly thick, either. But with such a flat stomach, it looked about right to me in the mirror. But Kara's mom would never get the chance to validate her assumptions, I'm afraid. At this point, Adam reached his right arm up and around my neck, twisting to pull my left ear down to his face. "Are you flirting with her?" he whispered into my ear. My new little friend was jealous, it appeared. I placed my right hand on the left side of his face, covering his ear, pressing my right cheek against his and whispered back into his ear, "Adam, I am her with you. Only you." He smiled and resumed his exalted position on my lap, as if to say "Mine." He moved his hands under him onto my upper thighs, sitting on the backs of his hands, his fingertips touching my groin, and I thought at first he was going to grab my meat, which was fluffed, but not erect, between his cheeks. I pulled him into my chest and whispered, "Watch it, dude." I could feel, but not hear him, chuckling against my chest. "So his mother has primary custody, then?" Miss nosy was back at it. "No," I said, enjoying the game. "Actually, I do." And my partner in crime nodded his head in agreement. "Then why don't you ever bring him to church with you," she asked. Oh shit! What the fuck? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To be continued... ------------------------------------------------------------------------