Date: Fri, 25 Dec 2009 09:44:44 +0200 From: Tristan Deveraux Subject: Wrestling with Demons chapter 2 Author's note: In November last year, I submitted the first chapter of a story called Wrestling With Demons to Nifty. Here, now, over a year later, is chapter two! Apologies for taking so long to get this chapter submitted, but this little thing called life happened in-between last November and now! As mentioned in my note to chapter one, please be aware that this is not a story about sex, though there will most likely be some minor sexually-related situations in later chapters, so if you're hoping to blow your load reading this story, you're in for disappointment and should find another story to read. This story is copyright by me, Zanatio, in November 2008, so please don't go stealing my work and passing it off as your own as that's not very nice! Finally, I'd appreciate feedback from readers. I'd like to know what you think of the story so I can decide if it's worthwhile carrying on with it or not. You can mail me on zanatio@hotmail.com. Wrestling With Demons - Chapter 2 About ten minutes after Jen and Josh had left, I was still sitting on my couch, sipping my Coke, listening to my ABBA CD and thinking about the boy I now lived next-door to. I could imagine what some of the guys on the boylover forum that I was a member of would say if I told them about him: go for it, you can get into his pants easily if you play your cards right; he's probably desperate for a guy to screw him; he sounds ripe for seduction. I shivered as I thought about it, and wondered again why I kept going back to that website. Sure it was good to talk to other guys who understood what I was going through, but hearing some guys talk about seducing boys and grooming them for sex as if it were no worse than going out for dinner honestly made me feel sick to my stomach. I couldn't deny that I felt SOMETHING for Josh the instant I'd laid eyes on him - which was what usually happened every time I saw a boy - but there was no way I'd even consider seducing him or grooming him for sex. I was not that kind of person, and never would be. If any kind of relationship did develop somehow between him and me - and I seriously hoped one didn't because I didn't trust myself when it came to my feelings for boys and was scared they'd make me do something I knew I shouldn't - I'd make sure it was well within the boundaries of a normal adult/child relationship. The kid had just recently lost his father anyway, and so pretending to befriend him just so I could get into his pants would be tantamount to betrayal. I knew I couldn't do that. I owed it to myself and to him to do the right thing. Despite my feelings of compassion for Josh, I couldn't deny that seeing him and thinking about him had made me horny, which also usually happened when I saw a boy. I wanted to ignore the feeling - in fact, I hated myself each and every time I felt it! - but I knew that seeing him later would only fuel my lust further, so I decided to jack-off before I went to dinner to purge my system of the sexual tension plaguing me so it wouldn't bother me when I saw him again. Since my internet wasn't connected yet I wouldn't be able to access the erotic stories I liked to read when I masturbated, so I went to my room, lay on my bed, closed my eyes and started stroking. It didn't take long for me to build up to my usual boring orgasm, and when I was done I was glad that I'd gotten rid of my sexual tension, but angry at myself for once again fantasizing about boys. I asked myself for the umpteenth time why I was like this, and as usual I couldn't find an answer, so I gave up thinking about it and decided to take a shower. I went to the bathroom and closed the door, then decided to open it again when I remembered there was no-one else around and thus no need to keep it closed. That would take some getting used to! I turned the water on, undressed and stepped under the warm spray. To my delight I noticed that the water came out a lot more powerfully than at my parent's house, but that was probably because my dad had installed a water-saving showerhead that restricted the water flow and consequently saved water. He was always doing things like that, trying to do his bit for the environment. As I luxuriated under the relaxing spray and enjoyed the feel of the water washing over my hair and body, I wondered what my parents were doing and if they were thinking about me. I felt another pang of homesickness as I pictured my dad watching TV and my mom making supper and thought about how I'd used to get home and play computer games all evening, but I forced myself to get over it, knowing that I'd only start questioning my decision to move out yet again which would make me depressed. So I took a deep breath and turned my thoughts away from my parents and my old home and just focused on the water running down my body. When I was done I hopped out the shower and started drying myself off. There was a small cabinet above the sink with a mirror on the door, and I eyed myself critically in it. I was still bothered by the state of my body. I was by no means a sexy or even good-looking guy, at least in my eyes. I was a little over six feet tall and had more fat than muscle on me. I'd been going to gym on and off for almost a year, but that hadn't seemed to have helped get rid of or even lightly reduce my Coke-belly (most guys seem to pick up a beer-belly as they get older; I didn't drink beer and preferred Coke, and I'd drank so much Coke that I'd picked up a Coke-belly!) My hair was a fairly standard shade of brown and I liked to wear it a little longer than would be considered neat and respectable; I guess that was the rebel in me trying to get out! Other than that, there wasn't really much more to my physical appearance, except for the fact that I wore glasses when I drove or watched TV. I was about as plain as a guy could get. When I was finished drying myself off, I walked naked to my room - that would also take some getting used to! - and dug some clothes out of my cupboard. After I'd put them on I went back to the bathroom and tried to comb my wet hair into something resembling an appealing hairstyle. It didn't work well; I'd never had very co-operative hair. So I just combed it to one side and then left it, knowing my fringe would form its own usual little twirl as my hair dried. I put my watch on and checked the time: just after 6:30. I still had about 30 minutes before I had to be at Jen's, so I went back to my computer and loaded up the latest Tomb Raider game, Legend, and got into the business of helping Lara kick butt. Time always seemed to go faster when I played games, so it felt like the 30 minutes were gone in just 5. Nevertheless, my watch indicated it was 7pm, so I saved my game, exited it and turned my computer off. Before I got up, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling myself to try not look at Josh too much while I was with him, because I knew it would just make me feel horrible. At the same time, I didn't want to appear rude towards him or Jen, although the thought of not talking to either of them again was briefly appealing. I sighed, and tried to clear my head of all the conflicting thoughts, then I got up, turned on some lights, headed outside and closed and locked the door. I walked down the corridor to Jen's door and pushed her buzzer. A few seconds later the door opened, and I saw it was Josh who'd opened it. He looked up at me with a blank expression, but for a second his eyes searched mine, and I suddenly felt like he could instantly see right into my soul, into the deepest, most secret part of me, and tell as plain as day that I was a boylover who couldn't help having feelings of lust for him. I almost took an involuntary step backwards as these thoughts raced through my mind, but then I quickly reminded myself that they were ridiculous thoughts and he couldn't possibly know about me. Still, seeing him there looking up at me, knowing he didn't - and wouldn't, and couldn't - know who I truly was, sent a shiver down my spine as I realized how big this secret I hid from the world really was. Some part of me, though - the part not suddenly paralyzed by my paranoid fear of my secret being discovered - took over, and I'd blurted out, "Hi Josh", before I even knew what I was going to say to him. "Hi", he replied in a tone that sounded like he was rather bored and not really too pleased to see me. Then I heard his mom call brightly, "Hi Tristan, come in!" and he stepped aside to let me enter. He closed the door behind me and then, paying me no more attention, walked over to the couch he'd obviously been sitting in before I arrived, plonked down onto it, pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged and returned to the book he'd been reading. I took a brief look around and noted that the flat was almost a mirror image of my own: the front door opened into the lounge with a small kitchen and dining area beyond that, while the short passage to the bathroom and what I assumed were two bedrooms to my flat's one was to the left instead of the right as in my house. Jen's house, however, had a deep aquamarine carpet everywhere except the kitchen, which was tiled in white like mine. The walls were painted a similar colour to the carpet, and a few paintings and what I guessed were family pictures adorned them. A small aquarium stood on a stand in one corner of the lounge, bringing back memories of the aquarium my older brother had kept when we were kids. It even contained some of the same fish my brother had had! As I looked around, it quickly became obvious that Jen's husband must've had a fairly well-paid job, as evidenced by the two three-seater black leather couches facing a large polished wooden entertainment unit that housed a big-screen TV, a DVD player, an expensive-looking Samsung audio system and an Xbox console and controllers. I felt a moment's pity for Jen and Josh as I realized what they must've had to give up after her husband passed away. Still, I didn't get a sense of arrogance as I looked around, nor did Jen strike me as anything other than a kind and soft-spoken woman. I looked toward the kitchen area and saw Jen setting cutlery onto a small table. She looked up at me with a smile and said, "Dinner will be ready soon. Make yourself comfortable." "Thanks," I replied, and I walked past Josh to sit in the second couch. I smiled to myself as I sank into its relaxing embrace and ran a hand admiringly over the leather. Then I suddenly felt eyes on me, and I looked up at Josh and caught him peeking at me over his book. He quickly dropped his eyes back to his book, pretending nothing had happened, but I felt a strange chill go through me as I got the distinct impression that he was studying me. First at the door, now here in the lounge. I wondered what he thought when he looked at me. Was he comparing me to his recently-departed dad, perhaps? Or was he perhaps scared I might one day get involved with his mom and take her away from him? I certainly wasn't quite sure what to make of him. On one hand, he seemed aloof and distant, every bit a shy and withdrawn little boy, while on the other hand I sensed a quiet intensity about him, as if he were holding part of himself back for some reason. Of course, given my lack of experience with kids, I was probably deluding myself and seeing things that weren't even there. And what was I doing thinking about him anyway when I'd told myself to try and have as little to do with him as possible? I shook my head briefly, trying to scatter my persistently confusing thoughts, then I looked at Josh again and figured that, despite how conflicted I felt when I looked at him and how I wished I hadn't moved in next-door to a boy who would send my emotions on a crazy rollercoaster every time I saw him, I couldn't be rude and just ignore him. I'm not that kind of person. So, even though part of me resisted, I asked Josh what I figured was a universally acceptable question to ask children: "So how old are you Josh?" "Eleven and three-quarters," he muttered without much enthusiasm and without looking up. "Oh," I said. "Got a birthday coming up soon then?" "Mm-hmm," he replied, again without looking up. 'Well this isn't going too well,' I thought to myself. A few minutes of awkward silence punctuated by Jen's activity in the kitchen followed before I tried again. "What book are you reading?" This time he didn't reply at all, but instead he turned the book so I could see the cover: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I wasn't a Harry fan at all, but I did know that the book was the sixth in the series, and the seventh and final book would be coming out soon. "You reading it to get ready for the last one?" I persisted. But again no reply, except for a small nod and a flickering of his eyes to mine. 'Ok,' I thought, 'so he's not very talkative. Well, at least I tried.' That thought didn't help me feel any more comfortable with the situation though. Fortunately my discomfort didn't last long, as Jen appeared next to the couch and said, "Ok, dinner is served. Would you like me to dish up for you or do you want to do it yourself?" "It's alright, you can do it," I told her as I stood up. "I'll eat whatever you give me." "That's a dangerous statement to make!" she said jokingly. "You've not even tried my cooking yet!" "I'm sure it'll be wonderful," I said with a smile as I walked over to the table. Jen looked at her son and told him, "Come Josh, let's all sit at the table." I glanced over my shoulder at Josh and noted how unhappy he seemed to be as he stood up and wandered over to the table. It bothered me that it was probably because of me that he was uncomfortable. But again I caught him glancing at me briefly and almost quizzically as we sat down and his mom dished up for us. "Well, eat up then," Jen told us both once we all had a plate in front of us and she'd sat down, "and I hope you enjoy it!" Her words were probably meant more to break the awkward silence that had formed than to implore us to start eating. I smiled at her then started eating, and to my delight found her recipe was almost identical to my mom's, though she used a fair amount more pepper than my mom did. I told Jen this, which brought a grin to her face. "So tell us a little about yourself Tristan," she asked before putting a forkful of pasta into her mouth. "There's not much to tell," I replied, going a bit red as I did so. I wasn't really that big a fan of small talk. "What do you want to know?" "Well, what do you do for a living?" "I'm an accountant, well more of a bookkeeper really, and I'm not actually a CA." "What's that?" Josh piped up. "CA stands for chartered accountant, and they..." No," Josh interrupted me, "what does an accountant do?" I was momentarily put off by his interruption. Like I said, I wasn't a fan of small talk! Plus, not having much experience with kids, I wasn't at all sure how to explain things in a way that an eleven year old would understand, or even how to talk to him at all! "Well," I began, "an accountant is someone who works with numbers and money and makes sure everything balances." "What's that mean?" Josh interrupted again. He was a tenacious little bugger! And I was starting to get uncomfortable and felt more and more than I'd make a fool of myself in front of Jen, who was watching me a little too intently for my liking. "Well, um, it means that I look at the money in the company and, um, check that it's all right and that everything, um, balances." I could felt my cheeks burning as I realized I'd repeated what I'd already told him. He probably thought I was a complete idiot now, and I wanted to melt into the floor. "Oh," he remarked, then took a mouthful of macaroni. He chewed thoughtfully for a while then swallowed and said, "Mom is a secretary at a big law company." I opened my mouth to speak, glad at the change in topic away from me, then realized my throat had gone bone dry, so I hastily swallowed to wet it again and asked Jen, "Which company would that be?" "Jacobson and Partners," she told me. "They're in Rosebank." The suburb she mentioned was not that far away, though I'd never heard of the law firm. "It's nice that your work is pretty close." "Yes it is. I've not been there very long, though. I had to get a job when Mark died." Her voice faded away on the last words, and I raised my eyes to meet hers. Deep pain shone very clearly in them. It was obvious her grief over her husband's death was still fresh. Then she quickly composed herself and asked me, "Where did you live before you moved here?" "I lived with my parents, actually, in Meadowridge." Inwardly I cringed at my answer. I hated telling people that I still lived with my parents when I was well into my 20s. "Wow," Josh said with a strange look on his face, "weren't you a bit old to still live with your parents?" "Josh!" Jen scolded him. "That was rude!" "Sorry," Josh mumbled and again I felt uncomfortable at being the cause of his rebuke. "Actually, you're right Josh," I said after a moment. "But I just couldn't afford to move out until now. I had no friends I could share a place with, and since I don't plan on ever getting married, there's no chance I'll move in with a woman." "You don't plan on ever getting married?" Jen sounded a little shocked at my revelation. "Why not?" I silently cursed myself for saying too much about my personal life. I struggled to find the right words that would throw her off the trail but would also not be lying, since I hated to lie. "I'm just not that interested in relationships," I told her almost apologetically. "I don't think I'd be any good in one, and I also have my doubts of ever meeting someone nice." "I'm sorry to hear that," Jen said diplomatically. "But I wouldn't give up hope yet. You're still young. Maybe you'll still find someone." "Maybe," I agreed, though inside I thought, Fat chance! I decided to quickly change the subject away from what was for me a very sensitive and delicate topic, and asked the first question that came into my mind. "So what school do you go to Josh?" "Robin Hills Primary," he replied neutrally. I plunged on even though I knew he probably really wanted nothing to do with me. "Are you enjoying it?" "It's ok." "Do you like your teachers?" "They're ok, but some of 'em are horrible." "Josh!" Jen exclaimed. "It's true mom!" the boy persisted, his cheeks flushing slightly as he grew more animated. "Remember that time I got detention in Mrs Pallin's class cos I was looking out the window?" I smiled to myself as his words brought back memories of my own school days and a similar experience I'd had. "Yes, but that's because she says you do it a lot. You need to be more attentive sweetheart," she told him gently. "But she's so boring!" "Maybe if she were your English teacher and not your science teacher, you'd think differently of her." Jen glanced over at me. "English is his favourite subject." "And science sucks!" Jen gave her son a look and said calmly, "No outbursts like that please Josh. Especially not at the table, and especially not in front of guests." Josh looked down at his food, his mood now completely dour, and muttered, "Sorry." I felt a pang of sympathy for Josh at being chastised so, and a feeling of guilt crept through me as I figured it was partly my fault that it had happened. We ate in silence for a little while longer, until Josh quietly asked if he could be excused. I glanced at him and noticed that he'd only eaten about half the food on his plate. Jen let him go and instructed him to take a bath, reminding him, as all mothers seem to do, to wash behind his ears. He slipped out of his chair and walked past me without a look or a sound. I felt terrible. I was so lost in my feelings of guilt that I hadn't even realized that Jen had said something. "I'm sorry?" I said, red-faced. "Oh, I was just talking to myself," she replied, her own cheeks going a little red. She indicated Josh's plate. "I said that his appetite hasn't been the same since Mark died." "Oh," I said, unsure of anything else to say. She stared at the unfinished food for a while. "A lot has changed since Mark died," she added softly. "He used to be such an active boy. He had so many interests, he was always outside playing with his friends. Now all he does is play those TV games by himself. And he's started biting his nails. And he's become so quiet! Most of the time it's like he's not even there. I'm so worried about him..." She trailed off and suddenly seemed to remember there was someone else there listening to her. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that." Now her cheeks really were burning. "It's ok," I said in what I hoped was a comforting voice. "I can imagine how difficult this must be for you." "It is hard," she admitted with a sigh. "I never dreamed something like this would happen. When Mark and I first started going out, I always thought we'd have a wonderful home with lots of kids and live happily ever after. You know, the fairytale ending." A sad smile appeared on her face. "Things didn't quite turn out how I expected." She went quiet for a while and her eyes went a little distant, then suddenly she seemed to come back to herself and her face grew brighter. "Well, enough about me. Tell me more about yourself." Instantly I grew nervous again. I hated it when people asked me about myself, because there wasn't anything to say! "Well," I ventured, "like I said before, there isn't much to tell. I've not led a very exciting life." I felt so bad giving such a pathetic answer, but it was basically the truth. "Surely you've done something interesting," she pressed. "Do you have any hobbies? I mean, what do you do in your spare time?" "Mostly I play computer games." It was such a weak answer, so I added, "I also like to go for walks on the beach when I can." "Oh, that's nice. Do you have a favourite beach?" "I quite like Sunny Cove. The wind is never too strong there, and it's a nice walk from there to Clovelly and back again." I didn't say how I also enjoyed getting glimpses of Speedo-clad young boys at that beach, then I felt bad for thinking about it. "Do you go with friends?" "No, I prefer going by myself." That, and the fact that I didn't have any friends. But I couldn't say that. "Oh, you enjoy doing the loner thing?" Jen asked with a smile. "Something like that," I replied with a smile of my own. "I like my own company. Less chance of starting an argument!" Jen laughed, then asked, "Don't you get lonely on your own?" Her question brought a fresh round of pain to my heart. Of course I was lonely! I was desperately lonely. But I couldn't tell her that, either, so instead I said simply, "Sometimes." "You do strike me as the quiet, reflective type." "Oh," I said, unsure of anything else to say to that. "Not that that's a bad thing," she quickly clarified. "I can't say I'm a fan of loud, boisterous people who rush around like they own the world." "Oh me neither." "Being quiet and reflective... I think there's a certain charm to that." Again I felt at a loss for words, and my ears started to burn as I struggled for something to say. "Sure," was the best I could come up with. "Do you like kids?" Her question was so totally out of the blue that it took me several seconds to register it, but as soon as I did my guts instantly turned to ice and I felt a cold sweat prickle all over my body. 'She knows!' a voice screamed inside my head, and the voice grew louder when I noticed that Jen seemed to be awaiting my response with a rather intense look on her face. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and rushing out the door in fear. It then took several more seconds to realize that what she probably meant was, did I enjoy spending time with kids and not, as my corrupt mind thought, did I enjoy doing sexual things to kids. Once again I silently cursed myself for being a boylover and my inability to change that. Fortunately Jen didn't seem to notice my sudden panic, which brought me a small measure of relief as it meant that I was probably being overly paranoid as usual and that she hadn't seen right through me. "Well," I croaked, then cleared my throat and continued, "they're ok, I guess. I mean, I'm not really any good with kids. I don't have much experience with them." "Oh," she said. "Well, I just asked because, well, I just wanted to know if I should tell Josh to stay out of your way or not. Not that I think you're a bad person or anything," she added quickly. "I mean, some people just don't like kids, you know? Like my neighbour on the other side. She's a real cranky old thing. Lives all by herself and told me right to my face when we moved in that she doesn't want to see or hear Josh at all. Says that kids are all no good and full of nonsense." "No, I don't have a problem with kids at all," I told her. "They're not so bad, I just don't really know how to handle them is all. Josh doesn't need to worry about me," I added, then suddenly regretted saying it as I reminded myself that actually, he probably ought to fear me more than anyone else because of who I was. "I'm glad to hear that," Jen said. "It would be lovely if you and Josh could be friends." I wasn't sure it would be lovely at all, but I thought I heard a hint of longing in Jen's voice that made me wonder if she wasn't perhaps hoping I might become an important person in Josh's life and grow close to him. That thought sent my mind spinning and I furiously tried to banish it before the darker corners of my brain could get hold of it and twist and corrupt it. "How did you and Mark meet?" I asked, hoping the change in subject would help still my rampaging thoughts. "We met in school, would you believe!" "Really?" I knew few people who'd married someone they'd known at school. "Yeah, we were in the same year, so we knew each other throughout high school." She grinned as she recalled the memories. "I'd always thought he was an arrogant, stuck-up pig, until I really got to know him in grade 11. I like to think that I tamed him!" We both chuckled at her comment. "From then on," she continued, "we were inseparable, despite the fact that we came from quite different backgrounds. I can't explain it; it was like a moment of perfect clarity. I just knew that he was the one I was going to spend my life with. He was funny and spontaneous and just a little bit wild, and he almost literally swept me off my feet. We married practically right out of school, which my parents said was a bit of a stupid thing to do, but hey, you can't fight love, right? After school he went on to study engineering and I did some waitressing, and both our parents helped us out with money to rent a small apartment and make it a home." "Didn't you also want to study?" I asked. "I did at first, and my dad really wanted me to go into medicine. But Mark and I talked about it, and we decided we'd stick to the old formula of a working man and his housewife." "I suppose that's sensible," I remarked. "It worked for us. We were happy. Except for the fact that we wanted to have a couple of kids right from the get-go, but for some reason we couldn't. I'm not exactly sure what the problem was, but we were told that children were unlikely. We were both devastated when we found that out. That's why Josh is my angel. He truly was a miracle child. And Mark..." Jen's voice suddenly failed her and her eyes grew moist with tears. But she went on resolutely. "Mark adored Josh. He was over the moon when he became a dad. Couldn't stop grinning for weeks after Josh was born. I never thought a man would be so...enthusiastic about a baby. He was always helping me with Josh. He fed him, he changed his diapers, he rocked him to sleep. And it didn't stop as Josh got older. He heaped affection on him. He loved Josh so much..." She stopped again, and by now my own tears were threatening to flow as the emotion of Jen's situation and the intensity of her and her son's loss really hit me. Hard. "He misses his dad so badly," Jen said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't bring him back. I would do anything to give him his dad back, but I can't." "I'm so sorry," I said, my own throat going tight. I didn't know what else to say, and even if I did, I didn't trust myself to speak for fear of being overwhelmed by emotion. Seeing how much Jen hurt over the loss of her husband and hearing her talk about how close he was to their son made it painfully clear how much Josh must be hurting, and my heart ached for him. Even though I was a paedophile, my compassion for boys ran deeper than my attractions to them, and I desperately wished there was some way I could help this boy. Even as I had that thought, though, I knew it was impossible, because I was just too messed up, my mind too corrupted, to be any good to a boy or even to have a normal relationship with one. That made me hurt even more; I wanted to help Josh, but my attraction to boys meant I couldn't. I wouldn't risk it, wouldn't risk the possibility of hurting him. He'd been through too much already. "Mom, are you ok?" I turned my head and saw Josh standing in the passageway, concern evident on his face and in the softness of his voice. His skin was smooth and a little shiny from his bath, and he was wearing a thin short-sleeved Spiderman-themed top and matching sleep pants. Despite the emotion I was feeling and the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but notice the silkiness of his skin and the curvature of his legs, and of their own accord my eyes darted down to his crotch where I saw the small lump of Josh's penis in his pants. I forced my eyes from his groin and my hormones to calmness. "I'm fine honey," Jen answered with a sniff. "I was just telling Tristan about dad." I saw a flicker of pain spread across Josh's features, and I thought he might burst into tears. That alone almost made me burst into tears myself. But the boy seemed to summon up some courage from deep inside and kept his emotions in check, and the pain eased from his face. "Oh," he said simply, his voice steady. After a few seconds, he added, "Can I play some games please?" "Sure sweetie, but use your headphones, ok?" "Ok." With that Josh padded into the living room, my eyes following him all the way, and settled on the couch where he'd sat before. Without another sound or a glance at us, he started up a video game - a racing game from the look of it - plugged in his headphones and put them on and immersed himself in it. Jen seemed to have recovered from the emotion of the memories she'd shared with me and was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. I'd taken a swipe at my own eyes when I'd turned back from Josh, hoping Jen wouldn't notice my own tears. I wasn't sure how she'd react to a man showing emotion; I'd learned the hard way that it wasn't really the 'in thing' for a man to be sensitive. Fortunately she didn't appear to notice my predicament. "I'm sorry - again! - for getting a little bit weepy there," she said. "It's not a problem," I told her. "Well, I suppose I ought to clean up a bit," she said as she stood up. "Would you like some tea or coffee?" "I'd love some coffee, thank you," I said as I also stood. "Can I help you with anything?" I hated asking since I knew I'd probably make a fool of myself by trying to help then not knowing what to actually do, but I figured it'd be rude not to offer. "No, that's alright," Jen said. "I'll just put everything in the dishwasher. Why don't you have a seat in the lounge and I'll join you in a minute." "Thanks," I said, then went back to the couch I'd first sat in and made myself comfortable again while Jen busied herself in the kitchen. I looked at Josh, who was engrossed in his game, his hands tight around the controller, his fingers moving like lightning over the buttons and knobs. Though I tried so hard not to, I couldn't help but roam my eyes over his body. He wasn't as gorgeous as some boys I'd seen, his skin not as darkly tanned and his hair not as sun-kissed-blonde, but he was still a boy, still a being that radiated the boyishness that so enraptured me. For the millionth time I tried to figure out why I was so intoxicated by boys, so physically attracted to the sight and shape and form of their young, lithe bodies, so desperate to touch them and run my fingers all over their naked flesh, and for the millionth time I gave it up as a lost cause. I sighed deeply in anger and frustration and despair, and hated myself even more. "Would you like milk and sugar, Tristan?" Jen asked. "I'd love a little of both, thanks." A couple of minutes later Jen joined me on the couch and handed me a steaming cup of coffee. I nodded my thanks and set it down on the coffee table in front of me. Jen sipped her own coffee then asked me, "How are you settling in?" "It's going ok," I replied. "I don't own a lot so it didn't take long to move and set things up. The only issue really is that my broadband isn't yet connected. That's gonna be done on Monday." "Well you must just shout if you need anything," Jen said. "I will, thanks. This living-on-my-own thing is gonna take some getting used to! I should've done it ages ago I guess. But I just wasn't earning enough!" "That must've been frustrating," Jen observed. "It was. And the older I got, the more embarrassed I got that I was still living with my folks. I finally got a raise a few months ago that I thought was enough to let me move out. I knew I had to go. I couldn't bear the thought of still living with my parents when I was 30!" "I always thought accountants were pretty well paid." "The high-up ones are, yes. But like I said earlier, I'm not a CA, I'm more of a junior accountant and bookkeeper. After studying for 3 years I decided that there was no way I was gonna study anymore and try get my articles! But you're right, I think I ought to be earning more than I am. I mean, there are people younger than me in other industries earning twice my salary!" "So why don't you try something else then?" "That's the thing, I don't know what else to try. I'm not really any good at anything else." "Oh," Jen said. I took the opportunity to take a sip of my coffee and wet my throat that had become considerably dry as I'd talked. I was amazed at myself for being able to even have this conversation with her. Normally I hated talking to people about my life and why it was the way it was. I mean, what 27 year old still doesn't have any goals or know where he's going in life? I could feel my cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment again, so I changed the subject. "Is this a nice area by the way? The estate agent said it was pretty safe." "It's not too bad," Jen replied. "Obviously with Main Road so close it's fairly busy, but so far things have been ok. We're still getting used to a new house and a new suburb ourselves." "Where did you live before?" "We had a beautiful house in Constantia Hills with a big garden and a swimming pool that Josh spent half his life in. And we had the most amazing German Shepherd. Malibu, Mali for short. We all loved him to bits. I've never known such a playful but gentle animal before. We had to give him away for obvious reasons." "That must've been tough," I said sympathetically. "It was. But like I said, a lot of things changed when Mark died." We both lapsed into silence again and sipped at our coffee. I glanced at Josh and saw that he'd pulled his legs up and was now sitting cross-legged as he played his game. His new position had drawn his sleep shorts right up his legs so that it looked like he was wearing the tightest of briefs. His tan disappeared into his shorts which made me suspect that he spent a lot of time outside in a Speedo. Or rather, he used to. Seeing the top of his smooth thighs and the tightness of his shorts caused yet another stirring in my groin, and again I chastised myself for it and forced my eyes away. It was so intensely frustrating having these feelings all the time, but there just wasn't anything I could do about them. I finished my coffee and set the cup back on the table, then suddenly a yawn came out of nowhere and I blushed as I quickly covered my mouth with a hand. I looked at my watch; it was only 7:45. I'd only been there 45 minutes! However, I was getting increasingly uncomfortable being so close to Josh, particularly dressed as he was, and my earlier masturbation session hadn't seemed to have driven all my lust away, much to my frustration. I decided it might be a good idea to make an exit before my feelings went too crazy. But I was scared I might offend Jen by leaving so soon after arriving. Still, I was genuinely tired from the move... Finally, I decided to hell with it and told Jen, "It's been a long day and I'm pretty tired, so I think I'm gonna go." "Oh, alright." Did she sound hurt? I tried not to think about it as we both stood up. "Well thanks for coming over. It was good getting to know you." "You too," I said. Now I really wanted to leave because I was sure I'd upset Jen and was starting to feel horrible about it. "Thanks for dinner, it was really nice." "You're welcome," she said as she walked to the front door to open it. I joined her at the door then looked back at the boy on the couch, causing a fresh whirlwind of emotion to course through me as I did so. "Bye Josh," I said, loud enough for him to hear me. He gave me a brief glance and a neutral, "Bye" and that was that. I turned back to Jen. "Thanks again," I said sincerely. "No problem," she replied. "And do let me know if you need anything." "Thanks, I will." I gave her what I hoped was a genuine smile. "Well, good night." "Good night Tristan," she said, also smiling. I walked out the door and she closed it softly behind me. Returning to my apartment, I ran over the evening's events in my mind, and as happened earlier when Jen introduced herself and her son to me, I couldn't get Josh out of my head, and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't get him out of my head! As I closed and locked the door behind me and turned on the lights, I pictured Josh in my mind's eye, sitting cross-legged on the couch, playing his racing game, so scantily dressed and showing so much of the soft, smooth boy-skin that was so inexplicably appealing to me. I wanted to hit myself for thinking about him and getting aroused doing so - in fact, I wanted to throw myself in front of traffic or stick my fingers in a plug, anything to punish myself for feeling the way I did - but I didn't. Instead, I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, the iciness of the water almost as sharp as a slap, which, I thought, was far, far less than I deserved. I raised my eyes to the mirror, and immediately had to look away because I couldn't stand the emotions that suddenly rose up and threatened to consume me as I looked into the eyes of a paedophile. Then I walked to my bedroom with tears moistening my eyes, collapsed on my bed still fully-dressed, and wished I was dead. Despite how early it still was, the exhaustion - both physical and emotional - brought on by the day's events quickly overwhelmed me and I drifted into a dark and thankfully dreamless sleep.