WARNING: This story -- a fictional one - contains sexually explicit parts involving sex between a minor and an adult. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now. Please note: I write these fictional stories for two reasons. 1) To help young gay people of a certain disposition to better understand themselves. 2) To help relieve the sexual tensions of those who are attracted to boys without resorting to actual association.

 

Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

 

Anyone wishing to contact me can do so at john.thestoryteller@gmail.com

 

Other stories on Nifty by John Teller/The Storyteller can be found here.

 

All rights reserved. All parts of these documents are Copyright 2012 John T. S. Teller, and may not be reproduced in any form without the author's consent. Nifty.org have permission to reproduce it on their website.

 

A small sermon. Nothing in life is free. Everything costs, and Nifty is no different, so please send them a couple of $'s/'s to cover costs and stuff. They're very discreet, and you won't get your name in lights if you do.

 

 

The only one smiling.

 

Part 2.

 

The warmth of the boy in his arms was wonderful. It always had been since he was almost a baby. Greg had held the almost asexual creature as a three-year-old; and again and again as his limbs and body grew from babyishness into boyishness. And Greg had come to love him in so many different ways. First it was as a sort of father figure with a hint of appreciation of his boy beauty, and also as protector from some of the emotional shit the boy had gone through. Then the love had changed to encompass the boy's growing attraction as a sexual creature, and now as a nine-year-old he was faced with the prospect of that love being fulfilled, because he was sure it was what Chris wanted, but that love was now being overwhelmed by another emotion: pure lust. The creature in his arms was the most desirable, beautiful boy he'd ever seen or known. The pictures he'd seen of beautiful boys, and the real boys he'd seen out and about and the fantasy boys he'd read about in stories had no comparison to what he was feeling now. They were wanking material. This was reality. Decision time. Go for it and fulfil his dreams and possibly ruin everything, and maybe even go to jail; or reject it and still spoil everything. Greg breathed in deeply...

 

*********

 

...and slowly slid his finger along the length of Chris's bum crack, and then back up again. The moment he did it he felt Chris tense up and wriggle his bum for more. So Greg obliged, and began to caress those cute buttocks, kneading the softness of his beautiful boy. He wanted to go further, deeper into the depths between those twin delicacies, but Chris's underpants were too tight to allow him access, so he just pressed his fingers into the crevice as hard as he could and hoped Chris would understand what it was he wanted. But Chris had other things on his mind now he was aroused and aware that Greg was compliant, and he sat firmly down on Greg's thighs when he lifted himself out of the huddle. The look they shared was one of knowing acceptance, and Chris was almost tearful as he pulled Greg's hands from his bottom and placed them on his chest, and used them to fondle himself. When Greg tickled the small nipples, Chris nodded almost imperceptibly to acknowledge it was what he wanted, and then lifted his head and closed his eyes. Greg continued to tickle Chris's nipples with his thumbs until they became aroused. He tweaked them between finger and thumb, and Chris's tongue came out, and his breath grew shallower until he could suffer the temptation no more, and pushed Greg's right hand roughly down to his underpants, onto his swollen dick, and when Greg began to massage it, he let go of the hands that were fondling him, wrapped his arms around Greg's neck, and locked their lips together. It was all sexual systems go from then. The kiss became breathlessly passionate; lips; tongues; saliva, and both Greg's hands worked their way into Chris's underpants to grasp his dick and balls. Greg's head was pushed back as Chris lifted himself up so Greg could get to him down there, and while he was being wanked with one hand, with the other, Greg scrambled for his anus, eventually reaching it with his middle finger to massage it. Once he'd done that, it was over. Chris's arms gripped Greg's head tightly, his mouth opened wide to take all Greg's tongue, and he humped at the wanking hand ferociously until his climax had lapsed. Only then did the passions leave him as he slumped onto Greg, leaving the man who'd delivered him such an amazing experience almost in a state of shock that he'd allowed it to happen. But Chris wasn't feeling guilty. While he was getting his breath back, he was nuzzling and kissing Greg's neck. Greg didn't really know what to do, so he just put his arms around the small boy, and hugged him.

 

After a few minutes, Chris looked up, and said, "Are you angry with me, Greg?"

 

Greg smiled at him. "No. Maybe I'm angry with myself, but I'm not angry at you. But I am worried. If your mum or Tony ever find out what's happened, I'll be in trouble. But even worse, I won't ever be able to see you again."

 

Chris stroked Greg's cheek. "They won't find out unless you tell them. I won't tell them. Anyway, they know I love you."

 

Greg was puzzled by the comment, and asked, "You love me?"

 

"Of course I do! I've always loved you. You know that!"

 

Greg shrugged his shoulders. "I know that, but I didn't think you loved me like that what we've just done. You're only nine!"

 

Chris gave Greg a half-angry look. "So! I've been trying to tell you for ages, but you've ignored me. Didn't it tell you anything when I sat on your knee that time and got hold of your Willie?"

 

Greg pulled a face at him. "You remember that!"

 

"Of course I remember! But when you took my hand away, I thought you didn't want me then."

 

"And why have you changed your mind now?"

 

Another rolley eyes. "Because I'm older now, and I knew you'd do it if I really wanted. That's why I've had my hair styled. For you. Mum said last week she was going to ask you to babysit. She knows how I feel about you."

 

Greg gave him a puzzled look. "How does she know that?"

 

Chris lifted his head and gave Greg a gooey kiss. "Because they know about us."

 

"And how do they know that?"

 

"I heard them talking. I'd gone to bed, but I'd left my reading book on the table in here. I started to come back for it and I heard them talking, so I stayed by the door and listened to them."

 

"And what did they say?"

 

Chris hiked himself closer and snuggled into Greg. "They were talking about you. They said they thought you were gay. Something about you not bothering with girls, and the way you loved me. Mum said she'd always known I was special to you. Then they started talking about me, and Tony said I was probably gay, and mum agreed with him and said she'd known for a long time that I was."

 

At that point, Greg interrupted, and said, "Do you think you're gay?"

 

Although Greg couldn't see his face, he knew Chris was smirking when he replied, "Yes. And I know you are."

 

"And how do you know that?"

 

Greg heard a small giggle. "Because you were naughty and tickled my bum."

 

Greg couldn't help but chuckle himself, and said, "Sorry. Are you angry at me for doing that?"

 

Chris shook his head. "No. It was nice. It made the feelings better when you did it. That's why I did it so fast. It usually takes longer than that."

 

"And how long have you been having the feelings?"

 

"Since just before I touched yours."

 

"That long! You started early! I didn't start until I was about twelve."

 

Chris giggled. "Do you still do it?"

 

"Mind your own business you cheeky monkey!"

 

Another giggle; louder this time, then Chris untangled himself, sat on Greg's thighs, facing him, gave him a gooey kiss, and grinned into his face when he said, "So you do! Do you think about me when you do it?"

 

Greg smirked at him. "Uhuh. Sometimes."

 

(Gooey kiss.) "What do you think about doing to me?"

 

"Not telling you. It's private."

 

(Gooey kiss.) "Do you ever think about kissing my Willie?"

 

"Not telling you. It's private."

 

(Gooey kiss.) "So you do! Do you ever think about putting your Willie up my bum?"

 

"Not telling you. It's private."

 

(Gooey kiss and a giggle.) "So you do! Do you ever think about me kissing your Willie?"

 

"Not telling you. It's private."

 

(Gooey kiss and lots of giggles.) "So you do! Shall I take my pants off?"

 

"What for?"

 

"So you can put the cream on my rash before you forget."

 

"But the rash isn't under your pants."

 

"I know that, but it will stop you smearing them when you do it."

 

Greg laughed. "Get them off and I'll do it."

 

Chris stood up, took his underpants off, then, because his dick was hard again, stood there grinning while he stroked it with his slender fingers. Greg looked at the beautiful, naked boy who had grown from a baby into the gorgeous, sexy creature before him, and realised that his AOA had now dropped to nine-year-olds. He looked at Chris's face again and saw that the boy wasn't smiling any more. Instead, he was looking directly into Greg's eyes with a look that told him the boy he had grown to love was all his if he wanted him. The look was an invitation, and when Greg held out a hand to the beautiful boy, Chris took it and moved closer to allow Greg to caress and fondle his nakedness. Chris lifted Greg's chin and leaned down and kissed him. "Would you like me to dance for you?"

 

"Madonna?"

 

Chris nodded. "Yes. I wish I was Madonna. Would you like me to be Madonna for you?"

 

They stared into each other's eyes for a while, and then Greg replied, "Yes. Please."

 

Chris walked over to the music system, and as he walked back, he began to dance to Madonna's `Vogue'. Greg had seen him do this many times, but it took on a whole new meaning now he was revealed in all his naked beauty. Greg's dick became so hard it was tenting in his trousers, and when Chris saw it, he clutched his own dick and made suggestive fucking movements as he swayed his slender hips and torso and rotated his tongue around his lips in an equally suggestive manner. Then Chris turned around, locked his hands behind his neck, and seductively rolled his beautiful, pert bum from side to side. Greg's throat was dry, and his breathing became shallower as he stared at the fascinating scene before him. Chris's boy beauty could never be better demonstrated than the way he was doing it; his raised arms stretching his slender body, removing every crease from the slim hips, curvaceous waist and well-formed back. Not only that, but his thighs were displayed to perfection, and the coltish legs had never looked more gorgeous. Chris was one extremely beautiful, sexy, seductive nine-year-old who would reduce any boylover to a gibbering slave. Chris turned, he did a few more movements, the music stopped, and never taking his eyes from Greg's, he walked forward and whispered, "Did you like me?"

 

Greg was almost speechless, but he managed a smile and a hoarse, "Yes. You're beautiful."

 

"As good as Madonna?"

 

"Better. I much prefer you."

 

Chris grinned, and in typical boy fashion, spontaneously changed from the seductive creature to proper boy, almost jumped on Greg's knee, lay back along the sofa, pointed to the rash, and said in a commanding voice, "Put the cream on!" Greg gave a resigned shake of the head, squeezed some ointment out of the tube, and gently smeared it over Chris's rash with one hand whilst stroking the small boy's erect dick with the other. When he'd covered the rash with ointment, he put the top back on the tube and looked at Chris, who was still grinning when he nodded towards his dick and said, "Now you can kiss it."

 

Greg looked at the boy erection not far below his eager lips. Even though Chris had gone through a growth spurt, his dick had always been disproportionately long for his boyish body. At nine years of age, it was about five inches long, beautifully proportioned, slightly arced upwards, uncut, but with a foreskin that was a bit too tight to slide easily off his knob, and it was throbbing involuntarily because Chris was worked up at the thought of what he was about to experience. Greg leaned down, took hold of the base of the shaft, slipped his lips over the end of the gorgeous dick, and sucked it while Chris lay back with his hands tucked under his head, watching everything Greg was doing. Every now and again, Chris pushed his hips up to get more into the eager mouth, and then dropped back down to allow Greg to play with his knob. Greg decided to try and get the foreskin back, so very gently he exerted downward pressure on it with his fingers, and pushed with his lips whilst rolling his tongue around the edges to lubricate it. After a while, he stopped and looked at Chris, and asked, "Are you ok with what I'm doing?" The eager boy's answer was to swallow hard and nod. So he continued, and eventually felt the foreskin roll over the head and settle just below it. It was time to be very gentle, so he used only soft lips on the pink, delicate knob, and a soft tongue to work gently on the stretched fraenum. But after a while, he could see by the occasional grimace on Chris's face that it was getting uncomfortable, so he applied pressure and rolled the foreskin back. At that point, Chris got up and sat in Greg's lap, pulled a silly face, and said, "That's the kissing part done, now do you want to put yours up my bum?"

 

Greg chuckled at him. "No. You're far too young for that. I'll tickle it for you, and I might even kiss it if you're really good, but putting it up your bum is a no-no for now, and even if you want me to do it later when you're older, you might not like it, and I'm never going to do anything that will hurt you."

 

Chris just nodded, and said, "Ok. Mum said you'd never do anything to hurt me." Then he looked at Greg, puzzled. "Don't all gay men do it with their things up their bums?"

 

Greg shook his head. "No. What makes you think they do?"

 

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "When I watch videos of gay men having sex, they all do that. And sucking and rimming."

 

"Videos? Where have you seen videos of that sort of stuff? And how do you know about such words as `rimming?"

 

"On the internet. Just take the filter off and type in `Gay sex' and you get all sorts of stuff like that."

 

"Do you like looking at that stuff?"

 

"Some of it. Some of it is gross. They..."

 

Greg stopped him in mid-sentence. "I don't want to know. Besides, most of that stuff is acting. Reality is different."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Greg pulled Chris closer and gave him a gooey kiss. "I'd be disgusted if anybody had taken a video of you and me doing what we've just done. It isn't right."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it would mean I didn't love you."

 

Chris looked into Greg's eyes, and smiled. "I like hearing you say you love me. Do you think I'm beautiful?"

 

The small boy's words almost brought Greg to tears. "You're more than beautiful. Now don't you think it would be wise to put your pants on and get off to bed?"

 

Chris frowned. "No! I haven't done you yet!" Then he smiled. "Anyway, I haven't finished. When I've done you, I want you to do me again."

 

Greg grinned at him. "The problem is that I make a mess when I do it, and I don't want to make a mess on my clothes or the sofa. But I'll do you again if you want."

 

Chris screwed up his face. "That's not fair! We might not see each other again for ages, and I don't want to go that long without doing you." Then he grinned, and said, "Let's go to my bedroom. I've got an idea." And before Greg could argue, Chris picked up his underpants, took hold of Greg's hand, and pulled him up from the sofa. "Come on. I've got some tissues in my room. Come on!"

 

It had been quite a while since Greg had been in Chris's bedroom. The last time he was in there, it was painted blue with pictures of trucks plastered on the walls. Now it was painted a shade of pink, with lots of pictures of Madonna hanging from strategic positions. The duvet of his single bed was crimson, and had a print of Madonna on it. Greg closed the door behind them, and when he turned around, his naked, beautiful boy was already lying on the single bed with his back to the wall, patting the space left on the bed for Greg to lie beside him. Still clothed, Greg got on the bed and lay down. Chris frowned at him, and began to tug at his clothes, obviously intent on getting them off. Greg was worried, and suggested that his folk might return early, and then they'd be in trouble. Chris just grinned, pointed to the window, and said, "The car lights will show on my curtains, and I can hear them coming. We'll have plenty of time for you to get dressed and go back to the TV room." Then he reached over behind Greg, turned down the rheostat on his beside lamp, and grinned again. "There, they'll think I've gone to bed." When Greg smiled, he reached down to grasp the bulge in his older lover's trousers, and continued, "And I'll still be able to see you."

 

If Greg had any doubts that Chris wanted his dick, he had none when the small hands began to massage it through his trousers, and then Chris yanked Greg's t-shirt up his body and began to rub his hands over his chest and belly. Greg was watching Chris's face when he was doing it, and there was no amusement in him while he was feeling the naked skin, and intent in his beautiful blue eyes that said he wanted what he could see. But Chris wanted more, and he pulled the t-shirt over Greg's head, and undid his trousers and pulled them and his underpants off. He did leave Greg a bit of modesty: his socks. Once Greg was naked, Chris concentrated on his dick. Greg was hard as a nail of course, and it got harder when Chris put both small hands round the seven inches, and, while sitting on Greg's thighs, began to roll Greg's foreskin on and off his swollen, purple knob. And then Chris hiked himself higher and rubbed his small knob over Greg's bigger one, then lined them up, and using both hands wrapped around their dicks, began to wank them. Greg was near to shooting his load when he asked Chris where the tissues were. Chris stopped what he was doing, looked around the room, and then got off the bed and searched under it, finally emerging with a box of them, which he placed on his bedside cupboard. But then, in his typical boyish way, he decided to do something else, so he gave Greg an especially gooey kiss, and there was a twinkle in his eyes when he said, "Will you rim me?"

 

Greg grinned at him. "Is your bum clean?"

 

Chris giggled. "Yes. I had a shower before you came, because I was hoping I'd get you to put your tongue up me."

 

Greg shook his head. "How long have you been planning this?"

 

Chris giggled even more. "Years. So will you?"

 

Greg smiled, and nodded. "Turn around you sexy creature, and give me your bum."

 

Chris gave Greg a really gooey, sexy kiss, scooted round so his bum was by Greg's face, and presented his suitor with his beautiful, small, puckered rosebud. Greg put both hands on the two, soft, curvaceous, small boy buttocks, parted them with his thumbs, and touched the now stretched boy hole with his tongue, which made Chris shudder. Greg stretched the buttocks even wider, and inserted his tongue into the warmth of Chris's anus, making the small boy squirm and move his bum from side to side whilst pushing back to get even more of the searching tongue inside him. Greg could smell the scent of Chris's boyish mustiness and Brut for Men while he wanked him and played with the child's decent sized balls between his legs. It got even better for Greg when Chris got over the shock of the pleasure of the tongue working its magic, and wrapping both small hands around Greg's dick, Chris began to wank him off again. Greg couldn't see Chris's face, but he imagined the boy was enjoying rolling his foreskin on and off his swollen knob and rubbing the oozing precum around it. But the position was an awkward one. While Chris was almost sitting on his face, the boy wasn't quite big enough to reach Greg's dick with his mouth, and Greg desperately wanted that sweet mouth around it, so he lifted his head from the pillow, effectively pushing Chris lower down his body. Chris seemed to understand what Greg was doing, and shifted his position so he could get closer to Greg's dick, and Greg was almost sitting when he felt the warmth of Chris's mouth settle over his swollen knob and begin to work on it, and he was thinking; precum or not, Chris wanted it in his mouth as much as Greg did, and he could envisage what the boy was doing and how far his dick was in his small, sweet mouth. The feelings were so sensuous that Greg left off rimming the boy anus for a second, and told him to stop because he was ready to ejaculate. He might as well have been talking to the wall beside him for all the good it did, because Chris grasped his dick even harder, and redoubled his efforts. So Greg did the same to Chris's hole and dick and balls, and he heard small boyish moans just as he began to spurt spunk. It was the most fantastic sexual experience of Greg's life, and the multiple spurts of spunk he emptied into Chris's mouth seemed endless as the small boy pounded his dick and sucked his knob in a frenzy of sexual excitement. When it was over, Greg collapsed back onto the pillow, still fondling the softness and curves of his beautiful boy lover, and then Chris scooted round to look at him.

 

Chris was struggling to breathe as, with spunk splattered over his face and oozing from his mouth, he grinned at Greg like a mad boy. Then he licked his lips in long circular movements, and emitted a giggle of both relief and satisfaction that he'd achieved his goal of seducing the man he'd wanted to have sex with for a long time. Then Greg asked, "Did you swallow it?"

 

Chris nodded enthusiastically. "Most of it. The rest is on your belly." He got off Greg, and pointed to the small pool of spunk that was on his lower abdomen and matted amongst his pubic hairs. "Look!" Greg grinned, took a handful of tissues from the box, handed some to Chris to clean his face and hands, and wiped up as much spunk as he could from himself. When they were clean, there was a pile of tissues on the bedroom floor. Then Chris scooted onto Greg's belly, took hold of his head, and gave him the most wonderful, passionate kiss, and while he was doing it, Greg caressed the gentle curves and softness of the boy body he had come to worship. When he ended the kiss, Chris drew back, and said, "I love you Greg. I swallowed most of what you did. Now do you believe I'm gay?"

 

Greg stroked Chris's face. "I'm sure you are. How do you feel now you've swallowed my sperm?"

 

Chris grinned. "Like a real man." Then his face became serious. "Promise me we can do it as often as possible. I wish I could come and live with you."

 

Greg pulled Chris's face close, and kissed him. "So do I, but that's not going to happen. Let's see what we can organise without attracting attention to ourselves. Next time your mum wants a babysitter, try and make sure it's me who comes."

 

Chris nodded eagerly. "I will. I think you need to put some more cream on my rash. It's all over the side of your face. I'll go and get it."

 

While he was gone, Greg began to dress, and was just pulling his trousers up when Chris got back from the lounge where they'd left the ointment. He fastened them, put on his t-shirt, and went to where Chris lay waiting on the bed with his legs open. He applied some ointment to the rash, closed Chris's legs, kissed the boy's now semi-flaccid dick, pulled the duvet over him, and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his face and staring into his eyes.

 

Chris was grinning when he said, "You'd better do your hair. Anybody would think you've just had sex."

 

Greg giggled, bent down and gave Chris a peck on the lips. "Then they'd be right. What they wouldn't know is that I've just done it with the most beautiful, wonderful boy in the world. The person I love most in the world."

 

Chris's eyes were teary when he said, "Me too. I love you Greg."

 

Greg got up, squeezed the fingers of the small hand that was clutching his own, and then, reluctantly, let it go and went out of the room to the toilet, and flushed the evidence of their lovemaking away.

 

When Greg had gone, Chris snuggled under the duvet, thinking about what had happened, not only that night, but what had gone on in his life for a very long time. Since he was a small boy, Chris had become attached to Greg in a way he didn't quite understand. It was only when he began to have sexual feelings that he realised why Greg was so special to him. It wasn't just that he thought Greg was really good-looking, Greg's body fascinated him. Every time he was spooned on Greg's knee, he imagined the dick that was hidden being close to him `down there'. Sometimes, when he got older, when he deliberately wriggled his bum in Greg's lap, he felt the big dick getting hard, and it made his own dick hard. The day when he reached round and grabbed it was the culmination of needing to know what it really felt like, but when Greg removed the hand and placed it back in his lap, he felt rejected and sad that Greg had treated him that way. But as time went by and he got older, Chris began to understand why Greg had done it. Of course Greg would have rejected him. They were in a room full of people and Greg had to do what he did. And Chris knew Greg was trying to tell him something when he sort of changed after that and began to fondle him all over his body. He even began to wear shorts whenever he knew Greg was coming to the house so Greg would have access to his legs with those thumbs that never seemed to stop fondling him near his balls. And the kisses on his neck were always heavenly, especially when Greg opened his mouth and touched him with his tongue. It was that that made Chris decide to change the way they kissed; his way of telling Greg that he loved him and wanted him specially. That went on for ages, but still Greg wouldn't go any further. Chris wanted to. He wanted to give his body to Greg, and he wanted the man-body so he could be like Madonna and have sex properly. Then, quite by chance, after he'd been looking at men having sex with men on the computer, he came across a site with stories that described sex between men and boys. Chris was amazed. Everything he felt was described on there, and everything some men felt about wanting sex with small boys was described in graphic detail. Eureka! Now he understood! Greg was a boylover, and boylovers only responded to what the boy instigated. It was the boy who had to act first! It was the boy who had to make the man do it to him. But how could he make Greg do what he wanted? Be more grown up! If he could do that, Greg might do it. So he had his hair cut short and made himself look older; used grown-up deodorant; flaunted himself when he finally got Greg alone. It had worked brilliantly, and everything he'd dreamed and fantasised doing with Greg had finally happened. But there was more to come. They'd made plans. Chris licked his lips and tasted the strange saltiness of his man's spunk. It was like an aphrodisiac to him, and his dick sprang back to full attention, so he turned down the brightness of the lamp to a gentle glow and began to wank himself off. After half-hour of masturbating, he went to sleep secure in the knowledge that he could now be himself with the man he loved; the boylover he had seduced this night.

 

          

Greg was asleep on the sofa when Sophie and Tony got home in the wee small hours in a taxi. The reason for that was because they were both half drunk, and had left their car at the place where the party was, taken a taxi, and because they had two cars, they would pick it up later in the day when they'd sobered up. Tony was in a good mood, but very tired, and he soon excused himself and went to bed. Greg made Sophie a strong coffee, had one himself, and they sat drinking it on the sofa together. He felt very self-conscious, because Sophie was sitting close and leaning on him. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder and thanked him for looking after the kids. Greg told her it wasn't a problem, and that he loved her kids, and that he'd do it anytime for her. She giggled a silly, half-drunken giggle, and said, "You're a lovely man, Greg. That's why Chris loves you so much. Do you know he had his hair done just for you?"

 

Greg pretended to be surprised. "No. But he does look so grown up now with his hair like that."

 

Sophie nodded. "I know. He's growing up very fast. He knows what he wants. If you want him to come and stay with you for a weekend, you only have to say." When Greg looked puzzled, she said, "It's OK. I understand. Just look after him for me, please."

 

Greg gave out a sort of half-smile, half-appreciative look, and nodded. "You know I'll always do that."

 

"I know you will. Now you'd better be getting off. I suspect you're tired."

     

 

Greg wasn't tired during the drive home. In fact he felt more alive than he'd ever done in his life, and all he could think of was the gazelle-like form of his beautiful boy when he was stood naked in front of him, and the fact that Chris was as advanced sexually as he was in other things in his life. Chris was nine-years-old in years, but what Chris had done that night was more akin to a boy much, much older, and he was a boy who had an extraordinary confidence in himself. There was another thing, too. Greg had always loved Chris, but he wasn't aware before this night just how much he loved him. In fact, he knew it was going to be difficult for him to keep away from his boy in the future. But what would the future hold for them? If Greg had known then what it held, he might have crashed the car and killed himself. But maybe not. Some things are worth any pain, especially the body and love of a beautiful boy.

 

To be continued...

 

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.