This Story is intended for a mature audience only. Redistribution without permission is forbidden. This is a work of fiction for artistic enjoyment, feedback welcome at vlad885 @ hotmail.com
Jerry walked along the path trying not to look at the wounded boy sitting in the grass. While thinking the creature cute enough, he didn't really want the complication of dealing with his problem. It wasn't like he'd been asked to help; for all he knew the boy's mother would be along to collect him at some pre-arranged time.
Just as he his made his closest pass to where the boy was sitting, Jerry stole a last look. It was an involuntary action he told himself. He wanted to see the boy as close as he could, even though the lad had put his shirt back on.
Jerry was caught again; the boy was still staring at him, and he might even have tracked the man the whole way along the path. Jerry stopped and turned directly toward the boy.
"That was a nasty crash you had there; are you all right?" he asked.
"I can't put any weight on it yet, but I'll be ok," the boy answered.
"Do you want me to call anyone for you? Your parents?" Jerry offered, as he considered the proposition rather safe. After all, who would fault him for offering to call for help?
"I live with my aunt ... Fuck! She's going to kill me," the boy whined.
Jerry was taken aback by the use of profanity by his perfect boy. How could something so beautiful speak in such a way? The fantasy personality that he's assigned his masturbatory dream was one that would use poetic prose.
`Oh kind sir! Your offer of assistance is extraordinary. My dearest auntie will be ever so worried about me,' Jerry imagined in his fantasy version of what the boy might have said.
"Should I call her then?" Jerry asked, unclear about the boy's response.
"What for? She hasn't got a car," the boy lamented.
"Ambulance then?" Jerry pressed.
"We can't afford to pay for that," he snorted.
Leaving the man with no other option than to walk away, Jerry surprised himself with a generous offer. "I could help you to my apartment across the street; put some ice on your ankle, and see what we can do from there."
Jerry paused, nervously waiting for the boy's response. Seeing the uncertain expression on the beautiful face as the boy's sad eyes peaked through his hair, Jerry added,
"I'm Jerry. I live at 221B Baker Street, the retirement apartments," he said pointing.
"I'm Devon," the boy replied.
`Devon,' Jerry repeated in his head. The name suited the boy, matching his uniqueness with a rare name.
"I guess we can go to your place," Devon replied.
Jerry moved closer to the boy as he stood, taking the weight from his injured side with an arm around his warm body. Devon was unable to put any weight on his right foot as they hobbled along, slower than Jerry's sauntering pace. The lad was easily a hundred pounds or more, so Jerry wasn't keen on just throwing him over his shoulder, as he might a lighter boy. Instead, they made their painfully slow journey to the man's apartment. It was indeed painful for Devon, but he tried not to show it, giving out occasional grunts anytime his foot touched something.
Finally up on the third floor, Jerry helped his new friend to the apartment and eased him inside. The boy dropped his skateboard at the door, and allowed the man to guide him over to the couch.
"You lay down and I'll get some ice," Jerry instructed.
He returned with some ice cubes in a plastic zip lock, to find the boy sitting upright exactly where he'd been left.
"We need to elevate your foot," Jerry explained.
The boy complied, now that he understood, putting his feet on the arm of the sofa. Jerry eased off his shoes and then positioned the ice. He noted the boy's feet seemed large for his body size, and wondered if that meant something about his endowment. Jerry stood over the boy of his fantasy, gazing longingly into his face. There was only one thing to do now - kill his pain with the pleasure of never before known sexual delights. He would make the boy squeal with joy, forgetting all about his ankle as his sexual tension was released.
"What?" Devon asked, breaking the man's thoughts.
"Oh, nothing; just an old man lost in thought. Do you want something for the pain? I have Tylenol," Jerry asked, as he was snapped back into reality.
"I'm fine," Devon replied.
"Well, let me know if you change your mind," Jerry suggested, as he wondered if the boy was worried about taking medication from a strange man.
"I could use some water," Devon noted.
"Of course," Jerry responded, heading back to the kitchen.
He returned with a glass of cold water and a bag of cookies.
"Thanks," Devon replied
Jerry sat opposite the boy, giddy with excitement, as he looked at this wonderful creature. He'd never thought he would know such a boy, let alone have him in his apartment. For now, he pushed aside thoughts of what the boy's aunt might think.
The silence between them was uncomfortable; Jerry wanted to talk to his new friend, but wasn't sure what to say. His excitement was almost frantic at having the boy here; the journey over took all of his focus, but now the shaggy haired boy was lying on his couch.
"So you live with your aunt," Jerry opened.
"Yeah, my mom's in jail. Don't ask; it's a long story about her fucked up boyfriend," Devon snorted, clearly unhappy with the situation.
"How long have you lived here?" Jerry continued, after an over long pause.
"Two weeks and a bit. I stayed with my grandma in Michigan until school was over; then I moved down here with my aunt; she works in a nursing home," Devon reported.
"What about your father?" Jerry asked, as one of his generation might do.
"Never knew him," Devon replied evenly. In his generation, fatherless kids weren't uncommon.
"You'll be going into the 9th grade next year?" Jerry assumed, trying to keep the conversation going.
"10th grade. I'm 15," Devon replied.
Jerry nodded, as he re-evaluated his age determination process. He didn't think he'd missed anything that would have changed his initial result. Devon was certainly small for 15, but not overly so. He thought of what he might say, coming up with, `so you want me to stroke that hard-on for you?' or `You want to see a man's cock,' when Devon whined,
"My board is totally fucked!" as though he just realised the situation.
"Can't it be repaired?" Jerry asked, thinking it silly of the boy to lug an irreparable skateboard around when he was injured.
"I can take the trucks off and put them on another board, if I can get one used or something," Devon replied.
By trucks, Jerry assumed he meant the wheels and mounting hardware.
"I suppose they cost a lot," Jerry continued.
"Sixty or Seventy for a new deck; maybe I'll get lucky and score a used one at a garage sale or something. It's not like I got any money anyway," Devon complained.
Jerry assumed that the money didn't flow when he was with his mother, either, given that he had some idea of getting used equipment. Now that he was on his own, it was likely that his auntie wasn't providing much, if any, allowance. This made Jerry's thought about the boy looking for a job at the grocery more likely.
"If I see one at a yard sale or something, I'll get if for you," Jerry replied, trying to be helpful.
"Don't bother; it's not like I can pay you back," Devon lamented quietly.
`Oh, just slip your shorts off and that'll be payment enough,' Jerry thought. He felt compelled to help the boy with his pain; he'd lost his mother, his home, and all that entailed. Now his sport was taken from him. He hadn't worked out how he was going to get Devon another board, but he knew he had to. It was a feeling Jerry wasn't accustomed to - an intense desire to help Devon, but coupled with that was the underlying fear of what his aunt might say.
"I guess I should try and get home," Devon announced
"Can you walk?" Jerry asked.
Devon swung his feet around and gingerly stood. He could put some weight on the foot, but not much.
"I guess it'll be ok," Devon replied bravely.
"I can drive you, if you want," Jerry offered. He wasn't keen on driving at night any more, and hoped it wasn't far.
"You don't have to," Devon responded quickly, leaving Jerry to wonder if the boy was still concerned about him, or if he didn't want the man to see where he lived.
"You won't get far, and hobbling about will make it worse," Jerry advised.
"Hmm," Devon replied noncommittally.
This quiet version of Devon was far more appealing to Jerry, as he openly examined the boy's face in detail. He was taken in by the brown puppy dog eyes and the little button nose, seeming to be slightly small for his face.
"Yeah, ok," Devon finally announced.
"Alright. Well then, we should go before your poor aunt worries too much," Jerry ordered.
"That's not going to happen," Devon snorted, giving Jerry some insight into the boy's relationship with his aunt.
Devon's directions weren't that helpful in getting a car to his home. The boy knew how to get to where he wanted by walking, but wasn't good with street names. Finally, they found the average looking apartment where his aunt lived.
"Ok, thanks, Jerry," Devon said, as he got out with his broken board in hand.
"It was my pleasure," Jerry replied. As he drove away, he realised that he might not see the boy again. Without a skateboard, he had no reason to come to the park. Jerry was a bit sad about having the boy for such a short time, and then losing him. He had his chance, and squandered it. He'd not made any attempt to get into the boy's pants, but he supposed that was an unlikely thing to happen anyway.
***
It had been two weeks since that fateful night when his infatuation was in his apartment. Jerry could hardly believe that it had actually happened. The shaggy haired teen had actually been lying on his sofa. He'd barely conversed with a boy in years, and now to have lost Devon was difficult, Jerry had to admit to himself.
He had even gone to the effort of getting a skateboard, not that he planned to use it, but he had some hope that Devon would return, perhaps just to thank him, but he lamented that type of protocol didn't exist anymore. He had mentioned wanting a skateboard, for when his invented grandson visited, to one of the prattling women in his building. Much to his surprise, he was connected with another woman in the building who had one for just such a purpose. Her grandkids were too old for it now, and so the board was offered to Jerry. He insisted on paying fifty bucks for it, even though the woman thought that too much and, in fact, was willing to give it away. From what he could tell, it was barely used, based on the condition, but the board now took up space in his closet, rather than hers.
Jerry went to the grocery again on Wednesday, and went though the normal routine. He took his time in the produce area, where a woman had two cute boys, before moving to the check out. Just as his business was completed, he caught a shaggy head of hair out of the corner of his eye. It was a masculine creature, with his back to him, wearing a store uniform. As the employee turned and moved toward him, Jerry's heart thundered. It was Devon. He obviously got the job he wanted; why he hadn't considered looking for him at the grocery escaped him. Perhaps that would feel too much like stalking; he didn't drive around where he knew the boy lived, for that very reason.
"Hello, Devon," Jerry said evenly, as inside his mind was atwitter with giddy excitement.
"Hey, Jerry," Devon replied casually. "I'll help you out with this," he continued, as he pushed the man's buggy.
Jerry was about to tell him that it was unnecessary, but realised that was the wrong thing to do. He wanted to be around Devon, and this was a perfectly legitimate way to do it.
"Thanks for helping me out that day," Devon offered.
"You're welcome, Devon." Jerry just loved saying the boy's name out loud. "The ankle is fine, I see"
"Yeah, it was fine the next day; my aunt had no clue," Devon explained.
"I got you a skateboard," Jerry announced nervously, as they reached the car.
"You got me a board?" Devon confirmed, with surprise and a little suspicion.
"Yes, a used one was for sale in my complex. The lady wanted twenty dollars for it," Jerry explained, not mentioning that he insisted on paying her fifty.
"Not much of a board for twenty bucks, but maybe the deck is worth saving; be something at least," Devon said, smiling.
He'd made the boy smile; and what a smile it was, too; bright and toothy.
"It's in good condition, from what I can tell; her grandson had left it there, and is long since out grown skate boarding," Jerry noted. " I could bring it to the park for you, if you want."
"I don't have any money, yet," Devon replied, losing the grin as he finished loading the car.
"Take the board, and pay me when you can; I've got no use for it," Jerry replied.
What he really wanted to say was, `drop your pants for five minutes, and we'll call it even,' but this was reality.
"I'll come by your apartment and take a look at it," Devon said, seeming to lose some of his initial excitement.
"Ok, I'm home most afternoons; you remember where it is?" Jerry asked
"Yeah, apartment 311; maybe tomorrow," Devon replied. "I should get back; see ya Jerry," Devon closed.
Jerry watched as Devon returned to the store, and he considered his luck. Devon was coming over to his place again.
Jerry drove home still excited by the prospect. He got the board out of the closet and wondered if he should clean it, but figured it should still have a used look. After all, the boy wasn't likely to refuse it in any condition. That evening, Jerry's fantasies involved a naked, shaggy haired skater, come to work off the cost of his board.
Chapter 3 coming soon