Warning: The following is a work of fiction and does not relate to any real person or event. It describes explicit sexual activities between adult men and young boys. If this is not what you are looking for, you have no excuse for reading any further. If it is, then enjoy!

THE PORN BOYS

by

Cosmo

Chapter 18: Loving Vladik

We watched the airliner move off slowly, taxiing towards the holding point, its orientation lights flashing, and then it seemed to spin around almost 180 degrees so that its nose was lined up with the runway. A few moments of formality for clearance from the control tower, and then the wheels were moving again. The big aircraft moved off down the runway, hurtling along for what seemed like quite a long time before picking up sufficient speed. Then we could hear the unmistakable sound of the engines powering up to full blast with that whistling roar. The wingtips flexed and the whole plane seemed to hover uncertainly, looking for a moment like it might be too heavy or even too slow to ever get off the ground. But it did. Eventually the nose lifted. It parted from the runway and the plane was suddenly launched skywards. It hung in the air, gaining height over the airport surroundings. The undercarriage retracted, it banked sharply, and we could just see the bright colors of its livery glinting in the evening sun as it turned, pointing its nose towards Pulkovo. And as it did so, we could see the shimmer of the heat haze from the engines as it flew directly into the sun. We watched it becoming smaller and smaller until eventually it was just a distant dot on the horizon. And I thought of my Yura, aboard that aircraft right now being carried to that momentous rendezvous, a rendezvous that was going to decide his future and potentially change the course of his entire life. Yura was finally on the way to visit his father in Saint Petersburg. Elena was accompanying him. For the first time since that little boy came into my life, I was without him.

Vladik turned to me and gave me a sad look. His little buddy was aboard that plane, and I think he too had the same heaviness in his heart.

`C'mon little buddy,' I said, `Let's go.'

He seemed reluctant to move off, and grasped the railing of the viewing platform even tighter. It was as if he was loath to sever this last connection by leaving the very place where we had seen Yura off.

`I hope he's going to be okay,' said Vladik, still looking into the distance with a hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare of the evening sun.

The drive back from the airport was sullen and mostly silent. Vladik was very thoughtful and introspective. We were both sad.

It was getting late by the time we got home from the airport, so we picked up something from the drive-thru on the way back. Anton had gone back to his apartment, with a heavy schedule of studying to get through. He had an early start the next morning. So for the first time ever I found myself alone in the house with Vladik. Silent and demoralized, we ate our spoils sat around the island in the kitchen.

I looked at Vladik, sat there across the corner of the island, just next to me, and he was nibbling on a chicken nugget. He didn't appear to be enjoying it very much. He had barely touched his fries. I had my elbow up on the counter, my fork dangling uncertainly from my fingertips. I looked down at my Caesar salad and decided I didn't really have the appetite for it.

Vladik stopped eating for a moment, looking up with the breaded nugget still between his fingers.

`You miss Yura don't you?' he said.

For some reason his question caught me unawares. Then I looked into his eyes and concluded that he could probably tell as much from my demeanor as I could his.

I nodded, looking a bit sheepish, almost afraid to admit it.

`So do I,' he confessed, `It's not the same without him is it?'

`No,' I said, shaking my head regretfully.

He put the chicken nugget down and wiped his hands on one of the paper napkins from the pile. He pushed the remnants of his meal away, indicating that he was done, and gave the napkin a cursory pass over his mouth, just once. Then he got up solemnly.

`I'm not hungry,' he said, in a very quiet voice.

Then he walked away, with his head hung down.

I watched him go, knowing that he was at this moment a very sad and mixed up little boy. I felt so sorry for him.

When I passed by his room a few minutes later, the door was ajar and I caught a glimpse of him sitting dejectedly on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed. He appeared lost in thought. All he had done was taken off his sneakers, one of which he was still holding absent-mindedly in his hands.

`What's the matter little buddy?' I asked solicitously, pushing the door open further.

He looked up. I went in and sat down, sinking onto the edge of the bed next to him. He looked up at me with a frightened look.

`I don't want Yura to go and live in Saint Petersburg,' he said.

He looked genuinely pained at the prospect of it, almost tearful. I put an arm around his shoulders and he tilted his head against me.

`Neither do I,' I confessed.

`He's been my best friend since we were six years old.'

`You'll still be friends,' I said, trying to reassure him, `I have a feeling you two will be friends for a very long time.'

He smiled at that, but I wasn't sure he was altogether convinced.

`All the time that I was away, it was like I was just waiting to see him again,' he said.

That was a very profound and revealing remark. It was significant because thus far, Vladik had not said anything about what happened to him. I had begun to expect he would never speak of his experiences, apart from perhaps with his therapist. It was also significant because it confirmed that the relationship between him and Yura was not merely little boy lust. Their relationship went well beyond mutual masturbation and pissing games in the shower – it was a lot more than that. These boys had a deep and genuine affection for each other that easily transcended a simple schoolboy assignation. I believe they had found a very real and enduring love – a love they both felt very keenly. I had seen it from the very first time I saw them together.

`All those months,' he went on, `thinking about Yura was what kept me going.'

I looked at him pityingly.

`Was it really awful for you?' I asked him, aware that it was a woefully inadequate question.

He looked up with a doleful, almost apologetic expression and nodded slowly.

`I don't want to be away from him ever again,' he said.

`He'll be back soon enough,' I reassured him.

There was a flicker of a smile. I smiled back encouragingly. That was better.

`C'mon little buddy,' I said, patting his thigh, `Time to go to bed. It's been a long day.'

I left him to get ready for bed. He was still sitting thoughtfully on the edge of the bed, the bed which he had up till then shared with Yura, and I headed to the door to go back to my room, but he called out.

`Mark?'

I stopped and turned, just hovering on the threshold, and looked back at him, but he didn't reply. He dropped the sneaker he was holding, then got up and came straight over to me. Standing before me in his socked feet, he reached up and put his arms around my neck. He stood like that, very close to me, and looked up.

`I don't want to be alone,' he said.

I put a hand gently against his cheek, and stared longingly into both his pretty green eyes. I smiled and drew his body against me into a welcome hug. He pulled my head down and kissed me. He put his bright red, glossy little rosebud mouth right up to my lips and kissed me, hard and long, maneuvering his lips in the most erotic and sensuous way. His experience showed. He pushed right into me, then pulled back, leaving his sweet wetness on my mouth. Lasciviously, I traced the tip of my tongue around my lips.

Vladik's tender, wordless advances were overwhelming and unequivocal. The look in his eyes was haunting and hungry. He seemed to implore me, like he wanted me to do things to him. I recalled how much I had wanted this little boy. I had wanted him for so long, and he had wanted me too. At last, I knew our time had come.

He eased himself away, and took my hand. What impressed me was that he didn't pull me away. He stood there, patiently, obediently, and waited for me to lead him into my bedroom. I thought that was extremely erotic. This boy knew how to make you feel special and he let me know that I was in charge.

We went into my room and I sat down on the bed. He hung back, standing by the door. It seemed he was waiting until I was settled and ready to watch him before he started taking his clothes off. He stripped quite readily, and I watched as he sensuously removed each item of clothing, one by one, slowly and tantalizingly revealing that utterly perfect preteen body of his, all the time his expression fixed on me. Vladik knew how to perform. He had this innate understanding of how to move his body when he was being watched, and he knew just how to conduct himself to induce the utmost anticipation and elicit the maximum awe in his audience. There was something very special about this boy. He had an air of guileless innocence but there was still a knowingness that implied he was well aware of the effect he was having. He had a maturity and a wisdom that exuded a level of experience that was well beyond a boy of his age.

Vladik stripped down to his underwear and stood before me in all his nearly-naked glory. I could see his long, thick boydick was already hard and pushing against the front of his underwear, the elongated lump trapped up against his abdomen, held in place by the thin fabric of his tight little boxer-briefs. He came and stood before me as I sat on the bed and quite deliberately put his hands on my shoulders. He waited. He wanted me to remove his underwear, and I realized just how knowing and experienced he was by allowing me the exquisite privilege of doing that. I looked into his beautiful emerald eyes as he stood before me, and I took in the incomparable beauty of this little boy. With his hands still resting on my shoulders, it was as if he was submitting to me and he had a look in his eyes that almost pleaded with me. The look on his face said `I'm yours, do whatever you want with me.'

I reached out and felt the warm fabric of his boxer-briefs, so tight against his skin. I slid them down his slim hips. His hard little boydick slid down with them, then broke free and sprang back up, sticking out like some wayward accessory, long and stiff and already primed for sex. The boxer-briefs dropped down around his ankles and he stepped out of them, finally completely unclothed, revealing the full extent of his naked boyishness. Vladik was breathtakingly beautiful. I had to stop for a moment to take in the sight of this perfect little boy and appreciate the marvel of his composition. Still sitting on the bed, I pulled him towards me and stooped down. He had a very beautiful set of little jewels which were infinitely suckable and lickable. His thick boycock, which I already knew was slightly bigger than average for a boy of his age, was indescribably hard. It had more girth and more weight than Yura's, with an almost impetuous zeal in the way it stood up so proudly, tumescent with little boy lust. It was magnificent. I enveloped his hard little dick in my mouth, pressing my face right into his crotch, roughly gnawing on his dick and sucking that hot, turgid little organ as hard as I could. At the same time, I caressed his bare hip with one hand, and kneaded his tight little hairless balls with the other. I looked up briefly, and Vladik had his head thrown back and was moaning softly. His little body was flush with desire. He needed this.

I stopped, letting his pulsing little dick drop free from my mouth. It waggled expectantly before my eyes, still sticking out hard and straight. Vladik stood back, obediently waiting by the side of the bed. I quickly took off my shirt and threw it aside, then reached out and pulled Vladik's diminutive little frame onto me so I could feel his naked body against me. I closed my arms around him and we fell back onto the bed together. We bounced back up and I felt his warmth against my skin, his weight pinning me down into the yielding mattress. He was pulsing with heat. His hard dick was digging into my abs. I reached down under him and wrapped my fist around his little dick as we kissed. For a few long moments there was nothing but the sound of our moist lips melding together, our tongues battling for position in each other's mouth. Then Vladik stopped and pulled away. His body still resting on top of me, and he whispered into my ear.

`Mark... be gentle with me. I'm still a little sore.'

I smiled at him, gave him a light kiss and nodded.

He rolled off me and stretched out on the bed next to me with his hands behind his head, as though preparing to sunbathe. I got up and removed the rest of my clothes, throwing my jeans and underwear aside, and looked over him. I admired the youthful perfection of this beautiful boy laid bare, and then climbed on top of him naked, smothering him with quick, light little kisses and clutching his slim frame tightly against me. He was burning hot. His face was flushed, his cheeks reddened, a condition no doubt stimulated by his quickening pulse and the anticipation that he was going to have his little body sexed up in the most uncompromising way.

First I kissed his smooth body all over, just to get the feel of him, and he lay there running his hands through my hair as I did so. He giggled a little as I licked his smooth, tight tummy, grabbing fistfuls of my hair. He was ticklish, but very docile and compliant, allowing me to sex him up in a way that I could tell no one had done to him in a very long while. I kissed every part of his young body, making him moan and squirm and familiarizing myself with his physiology. Vladik was very different to Yura. His body was somewhat firmer, perhaps more solid. He was only marginally taller than Yura, but everything was in a slightly different place. As I coupled with Vladik, I had to alter my technique a little. It was rather like getting used to driving a new car. I had been so accustomed to Yura's dimensions, this was going to require some adjustment on my part.

I took my time, kissing, licking and burying my face into Vladik's smooth, tight, yielding flesh. I nibbled on his little nipples and he held the back of my head and pressed my face into him, encouraging me to kiss him there. When I bit softly into his nipple, he pulled me to him even harder. The harder he pressed my face into him, the harder I bit. His little squeal was mingled with perverse pleasure. He seemed to know all about nipple play, another measure of just how experienced this boy was. I stopped just short of breaking the skin, and released his little nipple from between my teeth, leaving a gentle bite mark on the tortured little nub. Then I moved down to his crotch. I grasped his thick little dick and pulled the skin back roughly, jacking it just a little to elicit a reaction, and he stiffened at the sensation of having someone else's hand around it. I gave it a few token sucks and licked the shiny purple head roughly, letting my teeth graze it ever so gently, then abandoned it, just to heighten his anticipation, and I could see his dick stiffen even more, straining with the need for more stimulation. He was beautiful and sexed up beyond belief, and I knew he was ready for me. What I saw before me was so exquisite, my libido would not wait. Vladik had the kind of body that was so infinitely alluring, so perfect, so boyishly inviting, that it exuded sexual delight. It was a body that was so perfectly sculpted, it could have been made just to be expressly enjoyed by the boylovers.

To ease things along, I scooted over and reached for the lube from the nightstand and put plenty on Vladik and myself. Vladik was lying on the bed with his head tilted to one side, just watching. He had his knees up, his feet flat on the bed, and his legs open. His pretty little dick was still protruding straight up between his raised thighs, solid with expectation. I reached in and gently pressed my lubed finger against his pucker. He stiffened and exhaled sharply, screwing his eyelids tightly shut. His reaction was strangely erotic. I pressed my finger in further. He held his breath, and slowly his little pucker yielded. I was able to get two fingers into his tightening little hole and greased him up well. When he opened his eyes again, he passively watched me as I tenderly prepared my little lover for what was to follow.

When I was ready, he willingly drew his knees up to his chest. I knelt before him, settled myself between his opened legs and felt for his little cunt. He rotated his pelvis upwards for me, to meet my cockhead and facilitate my entry into his little hole. In doing so, I could feel the urgency with which he wanted to be fucked, like his body had a dire need to be filled with cock. At first he was lying back, completely open, relaxed and watching me with a look of wonder and curiosity. He had an expression of solemn concentration on his face and his demeanor was one of utter compliance. His head was propped up on a pillow which he had pulled towards the centre of the big bed, tilting his head slightly forward. His arms were up, resting loosely on either side of his head, as though in surrender, and his legs were folded upwards and fully open, leaving his freshly greased boyhole freely accessible. It was a position of total submission, as though he was opening up his body to me, lending him an air of helplessness and vulnerability, like he had put himself totally in my hands. His hands were clenching into little fists which alternately tightened and loosened as I pressed my cock against his little boyhole. His big, thick stiff dick was sticking up between his legs, pulsing with tumescence, his erection hardened by his anticipation of what was about to happen. I put my hands under his butt and lifted his pelvis up off the bed, making his back arch, and I scooted forward so that my thighs were under his butt. I pressed my hardness into his willing flesh and his tight little pucker split open. My thick iron pole of hardness sank readily into the softness of his boyhole and I felt the tangible pleasure of his little sphincter yielding, his tight ring massaging my cock as it entered him. A little way in, he opened his mouth in a little silent gasp, and he was slowly mouthing `Ow... Ow...' as I pressed even more insistently into his little hole. I pressed forward some more, and he half closed his eyes sleepily in concentration and admiration for what I was about to do. He made no noise, just little facial expressions that told me what he was feeling. It was hurting him, but he didn't flinch. Instead he laid there, looking up into my eyes with a look of lovestruck awe and admiration that made me feel suddenly very dominant and very powerful. I knew I could do whatever I wanted with him, but that power came with a responsibility for looking after this precious boy. He was being brave for me, and was obviously willing to bear this pain in order to please me, so I knew I had to take care of him.

I pressed forward even harder and he carried on staring into my eyes in total concentration, never once faltering, but sometimes widening his eyes when the pain was too much to bear, and he was still mouthing `Ow... Ow...' and making little grimaces of discomfort as my big dick slowly entered him. The further in it went, the graver his expressions became, but he never once told me to stop. I forced it in even further. He stiffened slightly, feeling the pain even more, and his eyes widened momentarily. He knew exactly what to do. With the knowingness of a boy who was well-versed in using his boyhole, he gave a small push, momentarily opening his little cunt for me, flexing his hole as though taking a dump, and that eased my cock almost all the way in. I was nearly there, and the temptation to push all the way in was almost overpowering. I resolved to get it over with quickly and with one final concerted push, my dick rammed home and was suddenly fully inside him. He closed his eyes tightly and made one last silent `Ow!' with his mouth, but stayed there, utterly impaled and his boyhole hurting exquisitely with the sensation of being filled with cock. He moaned as it gradually bottomed out into him, and I paused, almost overcome by the ecstasy of my cock being engulfed in his tightness. I could feel the burning heat of his little chute through my cock. I held it there, with my crotch tight against his hairless balls, and his iron hard little dick irrepressibly jutting up into my abs. I savored the snugness of his delicious little boycunt. For a few moments he gasped for breath, panting quickly as he bore the pain of his boyhole being stretched to the limit. But then, when the initial searing sting had subsided, he relaxed a little, assimilating the invasion. He opened his eyes, stared right up at me, and smiled. His clenched fists loosened. That was better. Once again, his experience showed. He was obviously well practiced because he settled himself into a position which he had learned was comfortable for him. Almost spontaneously, he hooked his legs around my waist so that his pelvis was hanging off me. It was almost as though he was suspended under me. I could feel his slender thighs hugging my hips and his pretty little boy feet were pressing into the small of my back, as though trapping me inside him. Finally, he was in position. He reached down, grasped his thick little dick in his hand, and gave it a few good hard tugs. That was the signal that indicated he was ready. Then he looked up into my eyes with a piercing, unequivocal stare that said `Now fuck me.'

I threw myself over him, propping myself up with an arm either side, and tried a few slow thrusts to begin with. I stabbed forward into him hard, my stiff dick seeking the haven of his hot tight little cunt once more, pinning him down onto the bed. As I stabbed hard into his little abdomen, he was looking up at me, his pretty green eyes staring into my face with a look of wonder and gratitude, ecstatic at the sensation of having his little ass filled with cock, and he was moaning `Oh yeh, oh yeh'. The thought that I was responsible for inducing such acute pleasure into his little body made my cock even harder, and at that moment I remembered what Yura had said. Yura was right: Vladik was a little fuckboy, just like him. He reached back and put his hands behind his head, as though reclining, relaxing back into a comfortable position, waiting expectantly for me to perform on him. He gasped with each thrust, but never once took his eyes off me. I swear it was the sweetest of all pleasures to have this boy so utterly impaled on my cock, so completely in my power, and yet looking up at me with an expression of genuine appreciation for what I was doing. He held this look of wonder and adoration and kept staring directly into my eyes. That was worth an orgasm in itself – to have those pretty green eyes connected to me, piercingly fixed on my expression as I labored above him in pursuit of the pleasure he was readily about to afford me. Then he spoke, and it was the only thing Vladik said while we were fucking, forcing his words out between gasps.

`Mark?'

`Yes, little buddy?' I replied, still stabbing savagely into his little cunt.

`Tell me you love me.'

God how I loved him. Too much, probably. But I realized he needed to hear me say it.

I maneuvered my head down and kissed him hard on the lips, bucking my cock into him again forcefully as I did so. His little grimace told me I had made him feel how much I loved him, at that moment rooting painfully into his little cunt. I whispered into his face.

`I love you little buddy. I love you very much.'

He smiled and squirmed beneath me. My words seemed to make him more compliant, and I could feel his body settling into a resigned quiescence, softening and yielding, becoming ever more malleable and receptive as I fucked him.

I fucked Vladik hard and watched as his little body rocked beneath me, pummeled into the bed with the force of each thrust, receptive to my travails and looking as beautiful as I had ever seen him, with that look of lovestruck awe on his face. I wanted to cum in him looking just like that. God, how I wanted to cum in him. As my orgasm approached, he felt the neediness in my pace. He jacked his own dick even faster in anticipation of my cum, like he knew it was going to be a big one. When I finally cummed, the sensation was exquisite. As my body pulsed and rocked with the intensity of my cum, and tightened up in a syncopated wave of sheer delight, I was staring lovingly at him. As my orgasm reached its zenith, I stabbed into him so hard his head bounced off the pillow. But he never took his eyes off mine, and he never once blinked as I filled him with my essence. Even as my cock pulsed and squirted inside his tight cunt, rooting deep into his most intimate place, he opened his mouth a little. He was momentarily enraptured by the feeling of my hot spunk being forcibly injected into the confined walls of his little chute. He was looking surprised and delighted, feeling the warm moisture filling his hole, my words of love now consolidated with a more tangible token of my love, the liquid love that my body had given up in pleasurable release and which was now infusing into his. Watching his expression, it was as though it was the most wonderful sensation he could ever know. Looking lovingly into his gorgeous green eyes as I shot my spunk into him, my whole body in the grip of unbridled ecstasy, only intensified my orgasm. Focusing on his perfect features as I was cumming was like spunking all over his pretty face at the same time. And what a face. God, Vladik was so beautiful.

Some minutes later, when I had recovered sufficiently and gradually wafted back down to earth from the heights of boylove ecstasy – that ephemeral boyfuck nirvana that this boy had elevated me to – I was laying back on the bed with my arms and legs out as though I was just coming back to consciousness. Vladik was curled up next to me, his lithe, naked little body half thrown across me as I laid there propped up against the headboard. He was resting his head on my stomach, looking up at me.

`Mark?'

`Hmm?'

`Do you really love me?'

I smiled, humbled that this little boy should be so needy of my love, and that its confirmation was so important to him.

`I love you very much, little buddy. More than you can imagine.'

He smiled. He had just wanted to hear me say it.

He went on lying across me, studiously running his little fingers through the sparse hairs on my chest. He seemed fascinated by the little hairs on my body and was looking at them closely. His nimble fingers were tickling the tight little curls, stroking and caressing ever so lightly, twiddling and tugging them gently as though trying to get the measure of how soft and downy they were.

`Mark?'

`Hmm?'

`Do you think I'll ever have hair like you?'

`I'm sure you will,' I said, `You're going to be a very handsome young man.'

He twisted around so that his chin was resting on my chest and he looked up at me, his pretty green eyes fixed on my face. It tickled and was slightly uncomfortable, but I bore it because he looked so adorable staring up at me at such close proximity.

`As handsome as you?'

`Listen to me little buddy,' I replied, `You're going to be real hot when you're older. You won't have any problem finding a lover.'

`I don't want anyone else,' he said, laying his head on my chest, so that his ear was against my heart, and he wrapped his little arms around me, `I only want you.'

I stroked his clipped head, ruffling a swathe of his golden hair with my palm, and I thought to myself: if only things could be that simple.

******

I didn't know it then, but that was the only night I was destined to spend alone with Vladik. The next day the news came that a good foster family had been found for him. Elena visited the house to deliver the news personally, and to talk with Vladik about what was going to happen. Accompanying her was the social worker from Children's Services, the frigid schoolmarm with the horn-rimmed spectacles, who was the prime mover in this whole affair. Perhaps unfairly, but not surprisingly, I had developed an instant aversion to her. I neither liked her nor trusted her.

Elena and the schoolmarm spent about an hour with us, sitting on the sofa with Vladik, talking about the foster family he was going to be staying with. Apparently they were an experienced couple with two boys of their own of around Vladik's age. They were highly recommended, and had an impeccable record of successfully fostering troubled young boys. What's more, they had Russian origins and spoke fluent Russian. The match couldn't have been more perfect. The people from Children's Services had vetted and approved them, and they wanted to get Vladik there as soon as possible.

So if the match was so perfect, why did it feel so wrong? What right did they have to take Vladik away? That boy was happy with me. Oh, I wasn't a trained foster carer, but I knew how to take care of him. I didn't need any social worker to tell me what I was capable of and whether I was fit to look after him. I remembered Anton's words that last day at Crystal Lake when he had said `You've done more for those boys than anybody.' Anton was right. His sentiments were frighteningly true, like so many of the things Anton said. I was the one who had wet-nursed those boys, assuaged their fears, and had patiently and diligently persevered against their hostility and truculence. I was the one who talked to them and listened to them; who took time to mentor them and understand them. I was the one who washed them down when they wet the bed and who dried their tears when they were in distress. I had fed them and comforted them, and bore their anger and their insults. And now that I had invested so much of my own energy and emotion into their welfare, they just wanted to take those boys away from me. They wanted to remove them with all the lofty ingratitude with which one might snatch eggs from a hen. What right had they?

By the time they left, I was seething with a profound sense of injustice. It felt not only wrong, but extremely undeserved. After all I had done for these boys, I was being cast aside as though my contribution had gone not only unrecognized, but deliberately overlooked. And yet, to minimize the distress for Vladik, I knew that there was no point in fighting it. I was powerless to do anything to stop it, and I knew that the best thing I could do was to put on a brave face, wrap it up with a positive spin, and try to get Vladik to subscribe to the whole thing willingly, if for nothing else to minimize the wrench of the proposed transition and try to smooth it over as much as possible. That was going to be more difficult than it looked. Vladik was an intelligent boy. He would be wise to my soft-soaping, and he knew his own mind. I knew that no stiff, hard-nosed schoolmarm of a social worker was going to win him over quite so easily.

When Elena and the schoolmarm had gone, I walked back into the drawing room after seeing them out. Vladik was still sitting on the sofa, looking slightly shell-shocked. I could see he was trying to assimilate the idea of going to the foster home. Disappointingly, he didn't seem to be buying into it. In fact, he looked outraged and defiant.

`I don't want to go,' he said, resolutely.

`You must.'

`I won't.'

`You can't stay here.'

Vladik looked alarmed and he stared at me with an almost frightened expression.

`But I don't want to go!'

`I know little buddy,' I said, `But it's right that you should be with a proper foster family.'

`Oh Mark!' he appealed plaintively, `Please don't make me go!'

He was close to tears. God, this was so hard.

`You must go little buddy, you have no choice.'

`I don't want to stay with those people!' he screamed, `I want to stay with you!'

`You can't stay with me,' I said firmly, `Those people will take care of you and love you.'

He turned on me with a hurt look, the pitch in his voice rising with desperation.

`But YOU love me! You said so!'

How I wished I was not having this conversation with him. How I longed for things to be that simple. But life just wasn't like that. It could never be as black and white as he saw it. In his childish logic I had been there for him all along. I loved him. I had said so. In the heat of our lovemaking I had professed my love for him. And now it was almost as though I was turning my back on him. How could his eleven year old mind make sense of that?

He watched my expression searchingly, looking for signs of amelioration on my part. But it was out of my hands. When I did not respond, his face collapsed. He threw himself down on the sofa and I could see his little shoulders shuddering. He sniffed and his whole body shook, and I knew he was crying.

`Oh Mark!' he sobbed, with a little howl of disappointment in his voice, `You don't love me anymore!'

He buried his face into his hands and was crying real tears of hurt. He was laying on the sofa facing the backrest, so that he was huddled away from me and he was almost trembling with grief. My heart was welling up in sympathy, and I wanted so much to show him that that simply wasn't true. I wanted to hug him, to hold him and reassure him, and show him how much I actually did love him.

I touched him on the shoulder. He violently shrugged me off.

`You said you loved me! You lied to me!'

I tried again to comfort him, stroking his arm, but he threw my hand off.

`Leave me alone!' he hissed, `You're a liar! I hate you!'

His harsh words cut into my heart like the swish of a thin cane. His childish utterance truly hurt, but his phraseology was strangely familiar. It was almost as if he was lapsing back into that same hostile language with which he had started out. Vladik had not spoken like that for a long time. His eleven year old anger momentarily stunned me and it was all the more painful to feel the full depth of fury he felt at this moment, especially as his accusation simply wasn't true. I loved him more than he would ever know. I had to remind myself that he was just a kid. I was an adult. I was supposed to know better. But it did nothing to assuage the tears that his cruel words had elicited from deep within me, and I could hardly fight back my own emotions as I turned silently and left the room. I knew that the best thing I could do was leave him alone, so I left him crying on the sofa and, whilst I struggled with my own emotions, my love for him made me painfully aware of the fact that he was still a very sensitive, fragile little boy who at this moment was feeling bitter and resentful. He thought I had abandoned him. And although he was hateful and rejected me, my heart was still filled with compassion and love for him. My love for him was so deep, so pure, so complete, that even when he hated me I loved him.

******

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