Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 07:42:47 -0800 (PST) From: Thomas Gaige Subject: The Abandoned Boy - Chapter 32 DISCLAIMER: The following story is FICTIONAL. It contains descriptions of sexual activities between men, teenage boys, and between men and teenage boys. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then please DO NOT READ IT! If you choose to read it, then - I hope you enjoy it! The Abandoned Boy Chapter 32 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As time went by, Rob and Cody developed their relationship with each other, and things seemed to go pretty smoothly for all us for a while. Buddy became potty trained, which really pleased Simon, as he didn't enjoy cleaning up wet and poopy newspapers. Simon's new job at the bookstore worked out very well for him. He found he much preferred sales to being a waiter. He did miss the tips from waiting tables though. His hours at work pretty much coincided with Ethan's, so they were able to hang out together on their breaks, and often got supper together. Since Simon wasn't working with Jerry anymore, Ethan was more secure about his and Simon's relationship, and both boys seemed more relaxed. Since Simon's final HIV test had been negative, his and Ethan's sex life flourished as well, with all kinds of new experimentation. Most everytime we saw the boys together, they either had smiles on their faces, bulges in their crotches, or both! Luckily they both ended up working quite a bit, otherwise, their dicks and assholes might have been rubbed raw from all the sex they were having, even though they usually did use lube! They weren't the only ones who were cornering the market on KY jelly. It was strange for Tom and I to be left home alone while the boys were both working so much. We didn't complain about it though. Instead, the two of us ended up having a lot more time to express our love for one another as well, which we both greatly enjoyed. In reality, it would've been too close to call if anyone tried to figure out which pair of us was getting off more than the other! * * * One afternoon during the winter I got home late from school, because I'd held a study session for some students who were having some problems. I was surprised to hear music playing loudly from outside the apartment door. I remembered then that neither Simon or Ethan had to work that day. As I walked into the apartment, I was surprised again to find the two boys both completely naked, in the doggie position, facing away from me, on the livingroom floor. Ethan was pounding his well-lubed cock in and out of Simon's asshole, and both boys were sweating and groaning, as if they were about to cum. I quickly closed the door behind me. Neither of them heard me walk in, and Ethan kept on slamming in and out of Simon. As my dick started to swell, I watched with interest how each time Ethan pulled out of Simon, his asscheeks spread apart enough so I was able to clearly see his tight dark pink pucker, which was ringed with a fringe of fine dark hair. About a minute later, Ethan's scrotum which had been hanging loosely between his legs, slapping against Simon's balls, began to tighten up, contracting up against Ethan's body. Ethan's strokes became more insistant, and I noticed his breathing had gotten heavier. He was clearly almost to the point of orgasm. "Gonna Cum!" Simon gasped, a moment later. Ethan sped up just slightly. A couple seconds later, Simon groaned, and a streak of cum shot out of his penis, landing on a towel he'd spread on the carpet under him. "AAwwwww! Fuck!!" Simon exclaimed. The onset of Simon's orgasm must've been all that Ethan needed to bring him to climax too, because he too groaned suddenly and threw his head back, as he apparently began filling Simon's rectum with his semen. As Ethan kept on pumping in and out of Simon, both boys gasped and moaned intermittently, as their mutual orgasm continued. By the time Simon had ejaculated all over the towel underneath him a few more times, my dick was stiff as a board, and I was wishing Tom were with me, instead of stuck at a Board of Education meeting. "Shit that was good!" Ethan exclaimed, when he finally stopped fucking Simon. He didn't disengage from Simon's asshole. Instead, leaving his dick inside Simon yet, he rapped his arms around Simon's middle and laid over his back, hugging him. "Fuck yeah," Simon murmured, still breathing heavily, as a final stringy drop of cum dripped from the tip of his dick, falling onto the towel under him. "Looked good to me too!" I said, loudly, causing them to both start, their heads whirling toward me. They both looked completely shocked, and very embarrassed when the saw me standing looking at them. As their faces both turned scarlet, I told them I'd be in my room, and walked down the hallway to my room. A couple minutes later, the two of them ran past my door, both still naked, their dicks now almost back to their normal flacid state. I noticed they were both still a little red in the face. They ran quickly into the bathroom together and shut the door. As I chuckled softly to myself, I heard the shower start. I stepped over to the door to my room and shut it. Then, while the boys were cleaning themselves up, and since I knew I wouldn't be seeing Tom that evening, I took care of the massive woody I'd developed watching the boys fucking. Ripping my shirt off, and yanking my jeans and briefs down, I quickly laid down on the edge of my bed, grabbed a jug of hand lotion, poured some in my hand, then I laid back and applied the lotion to my dick and began jacking off. It only took a little over a minute of me sliding my hand up and down my rigid organ, while I fondled my balls with my left hand, before I was gasping quietly and squirting copius amounts of semen all over my torso. When I'd finished, I laid for a couple minutes, basking in the afterglow of my autoerotic experience. Eventually, I sat up, and using several tissues, wiped the cum off my chest and belly. Then I got dressed again. I was just opening the bedroom door to go wash my hands in the kitchen, when I heard the shower finally shut off. * * * A little while later, while I was getting things ready for supper, the boys slunk into the kitchen. They both blushed deeply again, when I smirked at them. "Um... Sorry about earlier," Simon said. "No harm done," I said. "However, you really need to click the extra deadbolt if you're planning on screwing in the livingroom. Never know who I might bring home with me. I'm sure you don't want strangers walking in on you!" "We will," Simon said, quietly. "It won't happen again," Ethan muttered. After that, I didn't catch the boys having sex in the livingroom again. Although once a couple weeks later, I did arrive home to find I couldn't get in because the deadbolt was locked. I had to wait almost two minutes, after ringing the doorbell, before Simon and Ethan, who were both blushing profusely, and who both had bulging crotches, opened the door. * * * I was surprised one day when Rob appeared at my classroom door just before lunch. He looked like he needed someone to talk to. "I don't suppose you have time to have lunch with me?" he asked, hopefully. "I always have time for you, and if I don't, I'll make it as soon as I can," I said, smiling. "Do you have a lunch, or do you need to buy something?" "I have to buy something," he replied. "Wanta go off campus and get a burger with me? My treat!" I asked. "Sure," he grinned. "As long as I don't get in any trouble for leaving school." "You're with me!" I laughed. "You won't get in trouble! C'mon!" We headed for the parking lot then, stopping by the office long enough to tell the secretery that we were going out to lunch, but would be back shortly. I drove us to a nearby McDonald's and we went in. As we rode along, Rob kept the conversation on mostly small talk. I figured maybe he wanted to wait until he had my undivided attention before he brought up whatever it was that was bothering him. When we got to Mickey Dee's, we went in and each ordered Big Mac meals. Once we were seated and eating, I said, "OK, so what's on your mind?" Rob looked at me, as he chewed a mouthful of his Big Mac. When he swallowed, he said, "Well... remember back before Christmas when I was living with you, and you found out that I'd posted those messages on the on-line adoption bulletin boards, trying to find my birth parents?" "Yeah," I said, dunking a couple fries in some ketchup. "Well, this woman posted a reply on one of the boards. She said she had a baby boy on the same day I was born, in the same town, and he was given up for adoption too. She said she had the baby at a different hospital than I was born in though. She put her e-mail address in her reply. So I e-mailed her and we've sent messages, and even pictures, back and forth. She thinks I'm her son! She says I look a lot like "my father"! The problem is, I was told I was born in one hospital and she says she had her baby in another. She wants me to check and make sure I have the hospital right. That would mean I'd have to ask my parents, and they don't even know I'm looking for my birth parents!" Rob said. "Wow!" I said, looking at him. "That's it? Wow?" he asked, looking at me a little incredulously. I smiled and said, "No, it's just that I'm surprised by it all." "Oh," Rob said. "Well, what should I do?" "How is it you know the name of the hospital you were born in?" I asked. "My parents told me," he said. "Have you ever seen your adoption papers? Have you seen the hospital name written down anywhere?" I asked. "No," Rob said. "Do you know if the hospital name is actually written on the papers?" I asked. "I don't know," Rob said. I thought a moment. Rob took another bite of his sandwich and looked at me as he chewed it. Finally, I said, "Have you ever spoken to your parents about wanting to locate your birth parents?" "No," Rob said. "And they've never mentioned it to you at all?" I asked. "Nope," Rob said. "Well, there's a possibility that there were two boys born in your town on the same date, at two different hospitals, who were both given up for adoption. Of course, it's also possible that one of the two of you has the wrong hospital name and you are in fact her son. I think the only way to find out is to have both of you check for sure on the hospital name. Of course, conceivably there could've been two boys born in the same hospital, on the same date, and that both were put up for adoption too!" I said. "Great!" Rob said, as he gulped some soda. "I think you need to talk to your parents and explain to them that you've always wanted to find your birth parents, and that you posted a query on some adoption registry board. Tell them about this woman who you're writing back and forth to. Be honest with them. Then ask them what they know about the hospital you were born in. Also ask if they have the adoption file number, and for the name of the agency your adoption was handled through. See what they say." I said. Rob suddenly looked like he had indigestion. "I-I don't think I can do that!" he said. "Why not?" I asked. "I'm afraid they'll get mad," he said. "I think most adoptive parents are aware that their children might be interested in finding their birth parents someday. Some are OK with it, some aren't. Those who aren't, are afraid of a couple things. They're afraid that the child will like the birth parents better and want to live with them instead, or, they're afraid the birth parents might try to take the child back. All you need to do is let them know that you're not looking for your birth parents because you want to live with them, but just because you're curious about them, and your birth family," I said. "What if they freak?" Rob asked. "Well, they could, but I don't think they will. Besides, if they do, it's because they're scared they're going to lose you. So that's actually kind of good," I said. Rob thought for a minute, and ate some fries. He kept looking at me, and I noticed he blushed ever so slightly. Finally, he said "Would you talk to them about it for me?" "WHAT?" I said. Rob turned a bit pinker, as he said,"Please? They won't freak out if you talk to them!" I thought for a minute, then said, "How about if I'm there when YOU talk to them about it? Then if they do freak, I can try and restore a bit of calmness!" "Really?" Rob asked. "You'd be there with me when I talk to them?" "If it'll make things easier for you, sure," I said. "Cool!" Rob said, grinning. "That'd be great! Thanks Greg!" As we finished eating, we talked some more about it, and decided to talk to Rob's parents after school. We left then and drove back to the school. * * * "I left my books in your classroom. I'll have to come with you to get them," Rob said, as we walked back into the school. "OK," I said. We checked back in with the secretery, then headed upstairs to my classroom. The halls were filled with throngs of students moving from lunch to their next classes. Most of them were stopping at their lockers along the way. As we walked down the upstairs hallway, there was suddenly some shouting halfway down the hallway. "HE'S GOT A GUN!!!" I heard an older boy yell loudly. Then it sounded like a shot being fired. Suddenly there was a lot of screaming and everyone was scrambling to run down the stairs or into the nearest classroom. "GUN!!!!" Someone else yelled. "GET IN THE NEAREST CLASSROOM NOW!!!!!!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. We were in front of my classroom. I shoved Rob through the door and yelled at him to use the intercom, call the office, and tell them what was happening. "GET INTO A CLASSROOM!" I yelled, again, turning back to the hallway. It was amazing how fast the hallways emptied. Lockers were left hanging open, books, bags, and other things were laying everywhere, wherever students had left them. I was about to leap into my classroom and lock the door, when I looked down the hallway and saw a scrawny kid I recognized as a freshman who I'd seen in the hallways every so often. He was sitting alone in the middle of the hallway, about a classroom away from me, holding a pistol to his head. He was facing my direction, and tears were streaming down his face. I froze and just stared at him. Tom's voice came over the intercom then, announcing a lockdown due "This is NOT a drill! This is a REAL lockdown!" Tom said, his voice tense. The boy with the gun stared at me through his tears. I stared back at him. He didn't look to be a threat to me, as he seemed intent on shooting himself in the head. He sniffled a few times, as tears continued pouring from his eyes, and his lower lip trembled. "Don't do it!" I said, finally. He just sat there sniffling, staring at me. The building was ominously quiet. In the distance I could hear police sirens. In my peripheral vision, I saw Rob standing in the open doorway to my classroom, motioning for me to get in the classroom. "Can we talk about whatever's bothering you?" I said, my eyes never leaving the boy. The boy snuffled a couple times, and wiped his eyes. He left the gun pointing at his right temple though. Not taking my eyes off him, I took a step toward him. He looked scared then and yelled in an anguished voice, "Stay back!" "OK! I just want to talk! Can you tell me your name?" I said. He looked at me for a moment, then said "Eric." "OK Eric. I'm Greg Winslow. You can call me Greg," I said. "I just want to try and help you." Still crying, Eric just looked at me. He didn't take the gun from his head. "Eric. If you put the gun down, I promise you nobody will hurt you, and I'll help you anyway that you need me to," I said. Sniffling, Eric scowled and said, "Why would you do that?" "Because I care. When a student is having a problem, I want to try and help them with it," I said. "Nobody can help me!" Eric said. "Nobody wants to either!" "That's not true Eric! I DO want to help you! And, unless you let me try, you really don't know if I can or not!" I said. "You're just scared I'll shoot you, or someone else! You just want the gun!" Eric said, crying a little harder. "I am scared Eric. I'm scared you'll hurt yourself, and then we won't be able to help you!" I said. "Please Eric. Put the gun down on the floor. I promise nobody will hurt you in any way!" Behind me, I heard a few faint noises at the end of the hallway. On the opposite end of the hallway, I saw police in swat team uniforms dash past the end of the hallway. I also saw Tom peer around the corner. He looked terrified when he saw me talking to Eric. Eric's eyes got big, and he gripped the gun tighter. I assumed he saw the police at the end of the hallway behind me. "Yeah right!" Eric said tearfully. "NOBODY IS GOING TO HURT YOU! I PROMISE!" I repeated loudly enough for Tom and the cops to hear. Eric looked at me. I could see he was getting agitated. "Eric, listen to me," I said, softly again. "No problem is so big that you can't come up with a solution, or a way around it. Please! Let me help you find a solution to whatever it is that's bothering you. I promise. If you just put the gun down, we can go someplace quiet and talk about it!" "It won't help! You don't really care! Nobody does! You just want me to give you the gun! You don't care about me! Nobody does! They all think I'm a faggot! Well, I'm not! I just wanted to be left alone! They wouldn't stop picking on me! Not for a minute! And NOBODY tried to help me! Why should I believe you that you want to? I'm better off dead! It's what they all want anyway!" Eric hollered at me. Eric gripped the gun tighter and cocked it. "NO!" I cried. "ERIC! That's NOT TRUE!!! I DO CARE! I DON'T WANT YOU DEAD! I WANT YOU ALIVE!!! PLEASE! Killing your self is NOT the answer!!! PLEASE Eric! LET ME HELP YOU!" Tears streamed down Eric's face, as he looked at me. He looked terrified. "It'll be OK," I said, more softly again. "I promise! Just let me help you!" I took another step toward him. I was still a few yards from him. Crying pitifully, Eric just looked at me. Taking another step toward him, I said, "I know it's rough sometimes. I know that sometimes other kids can make your life miserable. I'm sorry that's happened to you Eric. But I'll do whatever I can to help you with that!" "You don't know anything! You don't know how bad it is!" Eric wailed, crying even harder. "You're probably right Eric," I said, stepping closer to him. "I don't know how bad it is for you. But I'm sorry it is. I DO want to try and help you though." "Nobody can help!" Eric said, miserably. "Not even you!" "Well, you won't know unless you let me try," I said, moving another step closer to him. "I can't promise I can fix everything. But, I can promise you this. No matter what, I will be your friend and I'll try to help you. I won't turn my back on you, and I won't let anyone hurt you!" "Why? Why do you care? Even my parents don't care!" Eric said, rubbing tears from his eyes. "My mother says I act like a baby all the time, and my father says he thinks I'm a faggot, like they all say I am!" "Well, I don't think you're a faggot, or a baby!" I said, stepping closer to Eric. "I think you're a boy who's been picked on unfairly. I think you just need a friend to help you, someone to care about you. I'm willing to be your friend Eric. I care about you, and I want to help you!" I was almost within reach of Eric by then. I squatted down in front of him and held my hand out to him, palm up and open. "C'mon Eric, give me the gun, and give me a chance to prove to you that I want to help you!" I said, looking into his eyes as sincerely as I could. Still crying, Eric stared back at me, uncertain about what to do. Time seemed to stand still. After a moment the hand Eric was holding the gun with began to move. He turned the barrel of the gun away from his head, and lowered it, turning it, until it was pointing right at me, then he stretched his arm out toward me... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next chapter in this series will be published shortly. This is probably the last one before the holidays though - although maybe not - but in case it is, I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!