WARNING: This story is about an affair between a boy and a man. 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.

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The well-dressed boy.

By John T. S. Teller.

Part 4.

I don't want to be alone! It was an invitation. Despite the trauma of the night, Joel wanted me in bed with him. He'd shown no signs of sexual excitement when I undressed him, and I reckoned what he wanted now was more comfort than sex. He was not alone in his thoughts... it had crossed my mind that I would have loved to have slept with him; to hold him in my arms and feel the warmth of his body close to mine for the very first time. But at the back of my mind was the thought that I would be taking advantage of him, and I would never do that. And that's why I asked, "Are you sure? There's not much room in that single bed, and I don't mind sleeping on the mattress."

Joel held up his hand. "I'm sure." Then he gave me a wistful look. "We may never get the chance again."

I smiled at him, nodded, went to the mattress, took the single pillow from it, pushed his across the bed a short way, and placed mine next to his. He scooted back to give me room, and I stripped to my boxers. I switched on the bedside lamp, turned off the main light, and ruffled the bottom sheet and duvet of the mattress to make it look as though I'd been sleeping in it. He watched everything I did and I didn't feel at all self-conscious. Although I was forty three, because I was an active member of a gym in Canterbury, and I worked out regularly, my body was certainly not unsightly. I was a tad over six feet tall and weighed in at just under 200 lbs. If Joel really liked older men, he could have been far worse off with someone much younger than me, and that gave me confidence. I also had a good head of dark, wavy hair (greying at the temples now, as Harry had complimented me on), and was clean shaven. Well, the dark stubble of the past day was on my chin, but I reckoned I was presentable to a boy I'd fallen in love with, and when I lifted the duvet and slipped in beside Joel, I think he appreciated what he saw, because he immediately snuggled into me and allowed me to wrap him in my strong arms.

I was on my back, and Joel was folded over me; his head nestling under my neck and his left arm wrapped around my chest. The situation was too much to stifle my sexual desire, and I felt my dick rise to its full height of seven, throbbing inches tenting in my boxers. That was fine until Joel's left leg came across me and the top of his thigh nestled under my raging hardness. I couldn't keep the shudder in, and Joel lifted his head to look at me. I smiled into his eyes and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry. It's not often I get to sleep with a beautiful boy like you."

He giggled. "Switch the light off."

I reached back and turned it off, plunging the room into darkness. When I turned back, Joel's hand came behind my head and pulled it down. Our lips met. We kissed softly. I ran my right hand down his back and over the shirt he was wearing until it settled on the soft, curvaceous buttocks. Joel's mouth firmed, and his lips began to move. I matched them with my own. The caresses of my hand drew the tails of the shirt up his body until my fingers were stroking the naked flesh of the back of his upper thighs, and then they were fondling the soft fabric of his underpants. Joel's breathing was becoming shallower when he slid his leg off me, forcing my searching hand to the front of him as he allowed his body to lie flat on the bed, automatically raising me from it so I was looking down at him. I stroked the front of his left, slim thigh, and then brought my hand into contact with the hardness that I'd felt under my wrist. The hand behind my head gripped much tighter, and he crushed our mouths together. Our lips opened, and we began to explore the wetness inside our mouths. Like me, Joel was lost now, and the only way was up. Up, that is, to the top of his underpants, and I slid my hand inside the hem, and down to hold the small, swollen head of his erection with two fingers and a thumb, and I began to roll his foreskin on and off the blood-engorged knob. Joel whimpered, and then he let go of my head and his hand went under the duvet to grasp my hard dick. It became a melee of pure lust then. My shirt was soon pulled over his head and discarded, and both our underpants were pulled down to our knees, and as I was wanking him off, Joel, using two hands, was wanking me, and at the same time he was using my knob to rub his balls and the part of his dick that was available under my working fingers. I was still kissing him, and then Joel broke the kiss and began to whimper like a baby. Because his furious efforts on my dick had redoubled, I knew he was reaching his orgasm, and mine was unstoppable. When rope after rope of my hot semen began to spurt, he directed it onto his dick and balls and lower belly. That seemed to heighten his orgasm, and he let out a muffled squeal of repressed sensations as his manipulations of my dick increased so frenetically that my fingers were knocked away as he pounded my now well-lubricated knob against the exposed turbulent mass of sensitive, sexual nerves of his small dick, sending shock waves of pure ecstasy into the parts of his brain that were responding to the sensations, and his small body spasmed involuntarily until the feelings had subsided.

When it was over, he collapsed, trying to recover his breath. When I kissed him softly, I inhaled his hot breath, taking it in greedily, making this delicious boy part of myself. When his breathing returned to normal, I pecked him on the lips, and asked, "Are you alright?"

The right hand that had been around my dick came up; he stroked the bristles on the side of my cheek, and whispered, "Oh my God! Yes! Are you?"

I kissed him softly again. "Yes. It was beautiful."

Joel nodded. "And for me."

Again I kissed him. "Stay exactly as you are, and I'll clean us up."

**********

Using a facecloth and two towels from the bathroom and Joel directing operations, while I was cleaning us up, I was wondering how the hell I'd managed to produce so much spunk considering Harry had emptied me down his throat less than twenty four hours ago. But I had, splattering the stuff everywhere `down there' on his beautiful little body. I had to rinse the facecloth out twice before I was satisfied that Joel and I were completely clean. Then I helped Joel pull his underpants up, which, because they were far enough down his legs had not been sullied, and finally I put my shirt back on him before I slipped on a clean pair of boxers from my suitcase. Because he'd squeezed his legs together when he climaxed, and I made sure he didn't open them during the cleaning process, my semen hadn't seeped onto the bed. So, by the time I was finished, we were pretty much back to normal regarding cleanliness, and even more important, because we were spending the night in it, the bed was clean. But there was something else I had to do: I needed to make sure Joel had no regrets about what had just happened, and when we were snuggled together with the bedside lamp on, I asked him, "Are you alright with what's just happened?"

Joel smiled at me. "Yes. It was the most fantastic ever. Was it nice for you?"

I smiled back. "Yes. You made me feel like Harry used to make me feel. It was beautiful, but I need to know that you have no regrets. I would never do anything that you didn't want."

Joel looked puzzled. "Did you think I didn't want to do it?"

I shook my head. "I had a pretty good idea that you did, but thinking and doing are two entirely different things. Some boys will do it, and then regret having done it."

Joel's face was serious when he said, "But not me! I told you I wanted to be your new Harry. Did you think I was fooling you?"

I kissed him on the forehead. "No. I was just making sure you weren't. What we've just done was pretty serious stuff."

Joel tucked his head under my chin again, and allowed his head to rest on my chest. "I know. You won't ever tell anybody, will you?"

"No, of course not! And you?"

"No. I wouldn't dare. Anyway, it's none of anybody else's business what we do." And then, after a moment of silent thought, he added, "What's going to happen to dad?"

"He might be let out in the morning when he's sobered up completely, or they may keep him at the police station until Monday morning and make him appear at the Magistrate's Court. It depends how drunk he was." I thought about my next comment before adding, "He might even go to jail?"

Joel's next comment hit home really hard. "I don't care if he does. I'm glad they caught him. He's stupid, and I hate him."

"Why do you hate him?"

"He doesn't like me. He never has. I don't think he likes mum that much. The only person he ever bothers with is Wendy. It's always Wendy this and Wendy that. Me and mum never get a look in with him."

"Do you hate Wendy?"

Joel lifted his head and stared into my eyes. "No! She's nice. It's not her fault!"

I was impressed with the little man for that, and I kissed his lips again. "No it's not, and it's nice to know you don't blame her. Now how about you get some sleep. You must be tired to death."

Joel looked up at me and giggled. "What we just did has woken me up. Do you want to do it again?"

I chuckled. "No! You're as bad as Harry used to be!"

More giggles. "I told you I was your new Harry. He told me that he used to keep you up all night sometimes if he hadn't seen you for a while. Did he?"

I reached down and grasped his buttocks. "He used to tease me with this."

Joel reached down and took hold of my soft dick. "Did you put this up it?"

"What did he tell you?"

He squeezed my dick very hard. "He said it was a fantastic feeling, but he said it would take me ages to get used to it. Will it?"

I chuckled. "Let's get some sleep. You ask too many questions."

Joel snuggled closer. "Can I ask you just one more?"

"Just one!"

"Do you love me?"

The hold I had on him intensified when I nuzzled his soft hair, and whispered, "Yes. Very much. Now go to sleep!"

I felt him relax and sink into me. And then he whispered back, "I love you too, Frank. Very much. Take care of me please."

I reached back and switched off the light, and then pushed Joel over so he could spoon into me to give us more room. He pulled my right arm up to his face and kissed it, and then hugged it like he would a favourite toy. Then he wriggled his bottom right back into me, and giggled. I gave a little hump at it, and giggled. Then he lifted his head and whispered into my face, can we take our underpants off?"

I chuckled. "What for?"

Joel chuckled. "Nothing. I just thought it would be nicer."

"Nicer?"

Another chuckle from Joel. "You know. We could sort of pretend if we took our pants off." This suggestive talk was making my dick hard again, and Joel must have been able to feel it, because he waggled his bum against my hardness, and said, "We could just cuddle."

I giggled. The small bottom that was now firmly nestled against my hard dick was as soft and cuddly as Harry's had been all those years ago, but would Joel know how to use it as well as Harry did. I doubted it. Nobody could fuck like my Harry when he was on top form. But if it was just a cuddle Joel wanted, then what was the harm?

Two minutes later, with both our underpants off and my hard dick nestled between the two lovely buns, Joel climaxed again as I wanked his small dick while he was wriggling his bum against my hardness. When it was over, Joel asked, "Do you want me to do you?"

I kissed the back of his head. "No. It'll make another mess. You're as bad as Harry. Just go to sleep you little bugger!"

Joel giggled as he hugged my arm to him, and within a couple of minutes he was fast asleep. The poor boy.

**********

I had a slight hangover when I woke and looked at my watch. 9.05 am. The duvet was half off me, no doubt pulled over by Joel during the night to keep himself warm. He was lying on his belly; his head turned towards me. I lay and watched him for a while. His hair was tousled, and his soft lips moved each time he breathed. I hadn't noticed how long his eyelashes were before, but now they lay over his bottom lid, I marvelled at how long they were. Unlike his hair, they were black. He was utterly beautiful, and I couldn't resist reaching out and stroking the hanging locks away from his forehead. Just touching him was a joy. After Harry, I thought I would never love a boy again, but the situation was repeating itself and I was in love with the most beautiful example of boy-beauty that I'd ever seen; perhaps even more beautiful than Harry had been as a boy. And, just like Harry, he was really sexy looking. But my experience was that some boys, of whatever age, possess that magic ingredient that makes them sexually attractive to look at. I'd seen seven year olds who possessed the same trait. It took a combination of a variety of features for a boy to be attractive to me, and Joel had them all. But he had two more things that made him really special: his beautiful auburn hair and deep brown eyes that melted my heart every time I looked into them.

He also had something else to steal my affections: a body so lithe and slim and curvaceous that I wouldn't have been able to resist him even if he wasn't quite so beautiful, and after I'd stroked his hair, I slipped my hand under the duvet and stroked the delicate bone structure of his upper back, paying special attention to his shoulder blades. They were indeed, delicate. My hand went lower, to the small waist. The bed had melded to his body, leaving the inverted curve of his waist to settle deeply, which made the journey from there to his cute buttocks a definite climb. My shirt had risen up his body almost to his waist, and when I stroked the softness of his buttocks and allowed my finger ends to delve into the crack of his bottom, I had a definite handful of pleasurable, soft, warm flesh. But I wanted more. I'd now seen and touched almost every part of this beautiful boy that I was in love with, but there was one part that still remained untouched: the entrance to the part of a boy that provides men like me with the ultimate sex act of coupling with them. And so, very gently, trying desperately not to wake him, I wormed my finger ends deep into the crack between his buns until at last I was touching it. Because he was unconscious, there was little resistance from the tight little puckered muscle as my probing finger entered him, and after I was satisfied that I now knew his most sacred part intimately and could imagine it in my fantasies, just as slowly and carefully, I extracted my finger. Joel still slept. His legs were slightly apart, so I felt between them at his soft balls, and then slid my hand along the back of his thighs to the backs of the delicate knees. When I reversed the process, I pulled down the shirt tail to keep his bottom warm. The action made me smile: it was my first act of the care he desired from me, and which I was determined to give him. And then, having both violated and protected him, I slipped gently out of bed and went to the bathroom to release the lustful feelings that had driven me to the point of needing him so badly.

Even when I'd returned to the bedroom and dressed in warm, casual clothes from my suitcase, Joel was still fast asleep. So I went out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind me. I looked at my watch: 9.35.

**********

The hotel receptionist was the same one who had looked after the wedding reception before he went off duty and left it to his understudy. I was in no doubt that he was the general manager. Horses for courses, and just as it required the best man to organise the most important part yesterday, so, too, he would be required to clean up the mess this morning. Although small and bespectacled, I knew he would know his job inside out. This was no modern hotel with all mod-cons; this was a two hundred year old manor house that required constant attention. I also supposed that in the greater scheme of things, Harry's wedding guests were not of the same class as some of those he dealt with. But I was not of that clan, and I wanted to make it bloody well clear that I wasn't before I proceeded with the plans that had been circulating in my mind ever since I began brushing my teeth.

That's why I walked briskly over to him, took out my wallet, and handed him five, crisp, twenty pound notes. He looked at me in a slightly puzzled way. I smiled at him. "That's for the sterling job you did yesterday. Everything went perfectly. Thank you."

He beamed. "Thank you Sir. It's nice of you to say so. I'll divide this between the staff. I'm sure they'll appreciate your generosity."

I shook my head, took another fifty pounds from my wallet, and gave it to him. "No. This is for the staff. That's for you. I like a man who knows his profession inside out." After he'd nodded his appreciation, placed the £100 in the drawer in front of him and the £50 in another drawer at the side, I continued, "I suppose you're aware of the problems with one of the guests last evening?"

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry about that. I'm surprised he was allowed to leave in that state. We have a strict policy of not wanting guests to leave if they've had a few too many."

I put up my hand. "Not your fault. I even offered him and his family my own room to try and persuade him to stay, but..." I shrugged my shoulders in resignation. "... he was, shall we say... more than a little obstreperous and arrogant? I'm sure you've come across it many times."

He nodded. "I'm afraid so. It takes all sorts."

"Yes it does. I wonder if you could do me a favour? His wife and young daughter are still here. And his young son. I gave my room to the mother and daughter and your concierge found a single room for me and the boy to share. I slept on a mattress on the floor and let the boy sleep in the bed. He's still asleep... the poor lad. But we have to get them home when they've recovered. Well, there are a couple of favours I want to ask of you really. If it's possible, could they sleep in for a while? The boy was pretty traumatised by events, and I suspect his mother and sister will be the same."

"No problem Sir. I'll see to that. Your room number?"

"The one I vacated was twenty seven. The single room is number sixteen."

He wrote the numbers on his pad. "I'll see to that. You said there was something else?"

"Yes. I need to find out what's happening to the husband. If the police keep him locked up, I'll take the family home. Do you know the local police?"

At last, he smiled. "Yes. We all know each other in these parts. Leave it to me Sir, and go and have some breakfast. I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

"Thank you. I think I'll just have a coffee. Are any of the other guests up?"

He gave me wry look. "Not many Sir. They tend not to rise `till late after a wedding reception." He pointed towards an exit door. "The breakfast room is there Sir. I'll come into you as soon as I know something."

I thanked him, and walked away.

Thankfully, there were no close family members of either Harry or Rosemarie in the breakfast room, and I was able to take a table on my own without offending anyone. I ordered a black coffee and picked up a copy of The Times. I wasn't really reading it; I was still planning. But my plans were on hold until I knew what was happening to Joel's dad. I didn't have long to wait.

The manager entered the room and came directly to me. He leant close to my ear, and said quietly, "I'm afraid Mr Griffiths will be detained for appearance at the Magistrates Court in the morning. Apparently, he was more than three times over the legal limit."

I looked up at him. "That's very bad. He could finish up inside for that."

He nodded. "I'm afraid he could. They're very hot on drinking and driving around here, especially when the Magistrate learns that he had his wife and children with him. It's not looking good Sir."

I nodded. "No. Well thank you for letting me know. When the family come down, I'll make arrangements to get them home."

"Is there anything else I can do Sir?"

I smiled at him. "No thanks. You've been superb. Thank you for your help. It's appreciated."

The moment he walked away, I began to ponder the situation again. Even with his step father out of the way, there were still many obstacles to surmount if Joel and I were to be like Harry and I were. And it was then that I realised that without something extraordinary happening, Joel and I could never be like Harry and I were. I sat back, picked up my cup of coffee, stared out of the window, and felt utterly depressed that I would never get to experience the happiness and sex and love with Joel that I had with Harry. No, I was going to have to settle for something far less gratifying. It might even be that our affair would fizzle out like a damp squib if our greatest enemies – propriety and adults – were the winners in this battle of intergenerational love.

Disgusted with my negative thoughts, I slammed my cup down in the saucer. Fuck them! Frank Lee didn't get where he is by being a loser! I loved Joel too much now to be a loser! I would get my boy... one way or another! And then I grinned when I thought who would be by my side in this battle... the boy I would always love – Harry, my new Commandant-in-Chief; my beautiful, ruthless bastard of a lover who had already sent my greatest enemy to the gallows in his quest to bring me happiness.

Did Harry know the consequences of him telephoning the police to inform them that Aiden would be drunk when he was driving away? I knew my boy very well, and I knew he did. During the years we were together, I discovered every nuance of his character, and there was always a ruthless streak behind the façade of foolery that he adopted. He was pretty ruthless when he wanted me. I was as much ensnared by him as he was by me. It had been a mutual entrapment. After that first Sunday together, almost every one of his Sundays was spent with me. By the time he was fifteen, we were going on holiday together. He slipped easily into the role of my well-off, pretend-nephew as we lived the high life in places as far away as Disneyworld and Hong Kong. He allowed me to spend a fortune on dressing him up. Never my choice, but the clothes he wore were class, and would have passed muster in Hollywood. We actually went there once, when he was sixteen, and when we stepped out of a limo on the Hollywood Boulevard to go into the Roosevelt, he looked so beautiful and adorable that he was mistaken for a child film-star, and he even signed a few autographs for a small crowd of young, tourist girls. He teased me rotten that night, telling me that I was his manager and that I had to do his every bidding. And I did, and as usual, he left me weak at the knees. Despite the seriousness of the situation with Joel and his family, I had to smile to myself at the recollections of my beautiful boy when he was at the peak of his deliciousness. And I was still smiling when, after he greeted the guests who were having breakfast,  he settled himself into the seat next to me, and said, "What are you grinning at, Old Man?"

To be continued...

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