Date: Tue, 9 Oct 2001 18:23:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jeff Spencer <ecolio157h700@yahoo.com>
Subject: All cats are grey

This work is completely fictional, and any resemblance to persons'
places or events is purely coincidental. This story contains scenes
describing sexual relations between 2 men, and between a man and a boy. If
these descriptions are illegal where you live, or might offend you, please
leave NOW. Hey, this is a sweetly sentimental story with some great sex in
it, hope you like it!

==========================================================

It had been a miserable day, following a miserable week, just after a
miserable month, capping off a miserable life.

I could honestly say that my life felt like it was drawn by a half-assed
artist with a raging hangover, using dried out black and grey markers, on
drawing paper that had fallen in a toilet and been salvaged for later
use. In short, dull, blah, misshapen days followed by lonely nights. I
suppose I had to take some blame for the nights, as my attitude no doubt
bled through to the men I met during my painful days.

I could blame my parents, or teachers, or somebody back in that dizzying
morass of my life, but down there where we each of us keep our drain plug
firmly held, so that we don't leak out and mess up somebody's floor, I knew
that if only I could change my way of looking at the world, the rest would
surely follow. Just like Mary's Little Lamb.

I lay in bed, desultorily browsing through a boy magazine from Sweden. The
boys in it were fresh-faced, I guess cute, and their young cocks, well,
call them penises, since the boys seemed so innocent, were nicely sized,
and their rear ends cute, pretty, delicious, you choose the
description. One boy, he looked to be about 12, had long, windblown blonde
hair and a nice tan all over, except where his underpants ordinarily
covered him up. There, he was almost a blinding white, with pale skin that
looked like the flesh of a Red Delicious apple. Come to think of it, his
butt cheeks closely resembled two apples, with the peel removed.  His cock
was small, and snuggled up over his balls between his thighs.

I knew that I'd have to jack off while I could, because if I didn't it
would be gnawing at me all day long, and I'd end up with a headache. I
stroked my 6 incher hard, so that I'd come faster, watching the drooling
cream oozing out of my cock (I'm no innocent) and hoping the end would come
soon. Sure enough it did, and with the unconscious help of little Sven, or
Gotteborg, or some such, I shot my load on his paper face. Since he made no
move to wipe it off, I did, and went to get dressed.

The bad news for this day had come the week before, telegraphing itself in
a cream-colored envelope embossed with the name of some fancy law
firm. Funny what undoubtedly stolen money buys. The letter lurking inside
got off to the usual lurching "Dear Mr. Keller...." start, but ended up
careening around a corner I hadn't expected.

"... Foundation, as a condition of Mr. William Titus' Last Will and
Testament, will lease to you at a nominal cost of $10 for one year, his
residence at McKenzie Estate. Should you fulfill the further terms of this
Will within one year, the residence, and all services required for its
upkeep, will be made available to you for the rest of your life at no
charge. In order to meet the requirements of this Will, and retain tenancy
rights, you will have to complete the following..."

Since I can tell you a lot faster than that over-priced lawyer could write
it, let me just sum it up. I had to get rid of the `ghost' haunting
McKenzie Estate, quick and to the satisfaction of a parapsychologist named
in the will. It sounded to me like a ridiculous gift, given by someone who
I'd thought had completely forgotten me since college days, but since I was
close to getting thrown out of my apartment, and the digs were nice,
well...

And so I showed up at McKenzie Estate on May 17th, Year of Our Lord 1999. I
dimly remembered visiting with Billy 20 years before, when he was trying to
impress me with his family's wealth, and the place hadn't apparently
changed much, though there were less Tituses running around. Probably 100
acres surrounding a big fucking stone mansion. 12 bedrooms, 15 bathrooms (I
could never figure out that more bathrooms than bedrooms thing - are rich
people worried about the bathroom being occupied when they have to pee?). A
lawn trying to drown numerous weeping willow trees in a sea of
close-cropped grass, and finally tucking itself under the gentle waves of
an attached lake. All in all, a picture out of "Great Baronial Homes of
England", upstate New York edition.

The starched barrister handed over the keys, and gestured vaguely at the
hired help who'd keep the place up whether I succeeded, or whether I ended
up floating in that English lake. He reminded me to call him when I had
psychically cleared the mansion, or they'd be out next May 17 to get the
keys back. "Stuart, good luck," he said, in that broom-up-the-ass way of
his. He had told me on our first meeting how Billy died, simply an
unfortunate meeting with a drunk driver. Billy had rewritten his will 6
months before his death, to insert me in as beneficiary, a move that
puzzled me. I hadn't spoken with or contacted Billy in a long time, and I
didn't even know where he lived. The attorney showed a second unexpected
spark of life when he said, "Billy really loved you, I think. Don't let him
down."

I trudged into the place, and started looking around, checking the lay of
the land for the next year. Only one kitchen, fortunately, so I knew where
I could go to keep my 210 pound, 6'2" 37 year old body fueled up. After
laying into a snack, I made my way around both the inside and a small
portion of the outside. I found myself attracted to a shaded bower, with
clematis vines growing up trellises, and a small bench for two - a place
for lovers. I wondered if that house had ever seen any lovers other than
Billy and I. From what I knew of his family and subsequent life after
college, lovers of any kind seemed a remote possibility. I loved Billy, and
he loved me, but we couldn't make it work together.

Billy and I met at gay mixer on campus. Billy was the gay one, and a
senior, I was a freshman who had gone to gawk at the `queers'. While I was
standing outside the doors watching them come and go, Billy came up to me
and asked me if I was going in. I hemmed and hawed, as though I was afraid
if a bunch of gays knew I was there to stare at them, they might beat me
up, or worse, rape me. As it turned out, Billy was a nice enough guy and I
ended up raping him, though with his consent and to his very apparent
pleasure.

We talked for a long time, and drank beer, and I slowly found myself
looking at Billy as though he were a human being instead of a
homosexual. We walked along a campus path, and reaching a section of deep
shade where the oaks blotted out the street light, I found myself kissing
him. He didn't kiss back, but neither did he pull away. I pulled away after
a few seconds, and tried to look into his blue eyes, which were deep pools
of indigo in the shadow. His dark brown hair looked black, and he towered
over my 5' 11" frame at his 6' 1".

"Geez, I'm sorry, Billy. I'm not gay, and I hope you don't think I am, and
I'm sorry, I was wro-". With that Billy planted his full lips on mine and
stroked the back of my head gently. He pulled back, grinned and said, "Shut
up Stu, just go with the flow."

I looked at him as though pole-axed, and said, "Okay."

He took me by the hand and led me to his apartment, which was just off
campus. As we got inside the door, Billy began unbuttoning my shirt,
followed by my pants. "Now freshman, you get in that bed, right there, and
sleep it off. I'll see you in the morning." I staggered over to the bed in
my underpants, and rapidly fell asleep, halfway there when my head hit the
pillow.

From then on we were inseparable, and it was a full week before I worked
up the courage to carry my sexual urges any further. Billy was leaning over
scrubbing out the far side of his bath tub, when I snuck up on him. He had
the radio blaring and couldn't hear my approach. I put my arms around his
chest, and pinned his arms down. He quickly swiveled his head around,
planted a deep kiss directly on my lips and easily broke my grip. "Gonna go
with the flow, frosh?" he said quietly.

Drowning in his deep blue eyes, I nodded shyly. He stood up, bringing me
with him. He lifted me up in a firemen's carry and marched me over to his
bed, the bigger one. He slung me down on my back and slowly began
unbuttoning my shirt. I wiggled my body where it seemed like it would help,
and soon my shirt was off. He began on my jeans, and when he tried to pull
them down my hips, they got hung up on my raging boner. "Whoops, don't want
to sprain that," Billy said. "It's hell keeping a cast on." I giggled, and
he finished pulling them off.

As I lay naked in front of him, Billy began stripping for me. He kept his
eyes locked on mine while he removed all his clothes. As good looking as he
was, his 9" cock caught and held my eye, and soon, my mouth. He lay down
next to me and gently took my dick in his hand, and slowly stroked it up
and down. I found my hand reaching over my body to take his penis into my
grasp, marveling at the velvety smoothness covering what felt like a
stainless steel shaft.

Billy was soon pumping me lightly, causing my dick to spurt pre come onto
his fist. He followed his fist with his mouth. Licking from the base up to
the head of my circumcised rod, he slurped my cream up like a little boy
trying to savor every bit of a rapidly melting ice cream cone. After he had
gently sucked out all the pre come I could possibly muster, he latched on
to my cock head with his lips and tongue, and rapidly increased the speed
and grip on my dick. Soon I was spurting come that seemed to come from
depths I hadn't known, and Billy's mouth caught it all.

I knew by this time that I didn't want to give and not receive, so, after
resting a few minutes, Billy looked at me to gauge my reaction. I pushed
him over on the bed and starting at his lips, kissed my way down, over and
around his hairless nipples, stiffening the further, down to his navel. I
paused to enjoy licking this shallow, but rewarding hole, and then moved
down to his cock, which was surrounded by a forest of dark brown pubic
hair.

I tentatively took the head of his penis into my mouth. It was thicker than
mine, and stretched my jaw out a little bit. He jerked when he felt my
teeth graze his sensitive cock skin, and said, "Easy, frosh. They call it
`eating', but it doesn't mean you should chew, okay?"

I nodded, and tried to do better. Soon, I had worked up a nice rhythm, but
couldn't take more than a few inches, and settled for licking along with a
vigorous hand stroking. He tried to warn me that he was coming, but I
ignored him so that I could take his full load in my mouth, as he'd taken
mine. The taste was wonderful, and I think that was when I fell completely
in love with Billy.

We explored a large part of the sexual spectrum together, and when I
discovered the joys of rimming a man's ass through Billy, I very nearly
flunked out. It was all I wanted to do. It was the third time we had sex,
that Billy brought his head down between my legs, and, lifting my spread
eagled legs up to my chest, started licking around my anus. God, the
pleasure I felt with his tongue wiggling inside my anal pucker, was only
matched by the pleasure I received from licking out his tight hole. Licking
each other's ass hole is actually very difficult in a 69, so we'd usually
combine an ass licking with our early attempts at fucking each other's
hole. Unfortunately, Billy's dick was too big for my tender hole, and we
were never able to get it in more than the head, before the pain would
become too much for me.

I began to think more and more about the pleasure I was missing, and the
pain I had to endure from his cock fucking me, and it made me unreasonably
angry. It was a clear sign of my immaturity, but I couldn't see it then, as
I do now. We had an argument near the end of the year, and I stalked off to
teach him a lesson or two. I decided to join the Marines to upset him, and
soon was off to Parris Island. After a few letters from Billy that I was
too angry to answer, I never heard from him again, and chalked the breakup
up to just physical incompatibility. I knew that we were close emotionally
and mentally, but I was too immature to overcome the physical part. I guess
that's when the shadow of the void took over my life. Everything in my life
was filtered through a screen of bitterness, turning what should have been
a lifetime of happiness into darkness.

I was very successful in the Marines. Who wouldn't be, with the load of
anger I was carrying? I made a Class A sniper, and I'm not ashamed to say
that I did my part to protect my buddies with my sharp shooting skills.
After getting out of the Corps, I floated around from job to job, not
particularly successful and not particularly happy either. I'd lost track
of Billy, still dreaming of him on the loneliest of nights, but apparently
he hadn't lost track of me. The cream colored envelope told me so.

I returned to the present, musing over my bitter sweet memories of Billy
and me. I entered the kitchen and saw the gardener sitting at the kitchen
table drinking an iced tea. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'll get out right now," he
said.

"No, don't worry about it," I said. "I'd like to ask you some questions
about the house, if you don't mind."

"Yes sir, I'll help if I can, sir," he said.

"Tell me about this ghost," I said.

He proceeded to tell me a story right out of a Victorian novel, of a
ghostly presence that only manifested itself in the dark, by whispering
around visitors and residents alike, and even touching one or two, or so
they said. The spirit, apparition, whatever, had started appearing when
"Master Billy", as the gardener called him, was born. Billy never seemed to
take notice of the spirit, but since he had put me in his will as the one
to remove it, I guess its presence had bothered him more than he ever
said. I thought I owed it to Billy to carry out his last wishes as best I
could.

I went to sleep that night in the master suite, as I figured I had it
coming to me. It wasn't until my seventh night there that it came to me. As
I lay in bed, I felt a breeze blow over me, followed by indistinct
whisperings that sounded like a young teenage boy talking to someone.

"Who is it," I called. Nothing replied, save some whispers.

Who is it, I said," I called again.

To my utter shock, a thin voice replied, "It's only me."

"Who are you," I quavered. "What do you want?"

"I live here. Would you like to be my friend?", the voice whispered.
"There's no one to play with, I'm so lonely..."

"Who are you?" I repeated.

"I live here, I said." the young boy's voice said, taking on a little
strength. "Will you live here with me?"

My goal was for the entity to not exist, but I wanted to find out more.
"Why do you haunt this house?" I asked.

"Haunt?" the voice asked. "I'm not dead, or a ghost, how could I haunt? I'm
a thirteen year old boy, I go to school, I play...by myself. Okay, no
friends, but I'm real. If I could have friends, I'd be a really good
friend, I promise."

"Can you see me? What's your name? When were you born?" I asked, the
questions spilling out. Perhaps I could find out how this ghost came to
haunt the mansion, by finding out when it lived.

"Can I sit next to you?" he said, ignoring my questions, but apparently
signaling that he could, indeed, see me, even if I couldn`t see him.

"Well, okay," I said, curious to see where this impromptu seance would
take me.

I felt a light touch as he settled in next to me, and unexpectedly his arms
embraced me. The room was almost completely dark, but I could feel the
sheets move as his body, or essence, or spirit or whatever settled down
next to me. I noticed an aroma of flowers from his, I guess, breath, which
was warm. I slowly reached over to the lamp and switched it on, shocked to
see that there was nothing at all there. I looked around to see where he'd
gone to, but no luck.

I switched off the lamp, and instantly heard and felt this mysterious boy
next to me again.

"Well, what's the matter?" he said.

"You don't exist, or I can't see you, or something, but you don't exist in
the light. You ARE a ghost." In retrospect, I was amazed that this sequence
of events didn't give me a heart attack.

"Please hold me, I`m lonely" he said, simply. I felt his touch, which was
as real as yours, or mine. His voice had taken on additional strength, too.
Except for his complete absence to every sense in the light, in the dark he
was a real, living, breathing boy. I embraced him, and felt him rest his
head against my chest. Soon, I felt him breathing lightly, as though he had
fallen asleep. Since I felt pretty sure this wraith wasn't going to sprout
claws, or breath fire, I rapidly fell asleep too.

When I awoke in the morning, I couldn't feel, see or hear the boy, though I
thought I detected that same faint aroma of flowers. I felt more cheerful
than I had in a long time, and didn't even think any dismal thoughts until
later in the day, but these were soon overcome by my interest in possibly
learning more about the house's strange inhabitant. After a hearty dinner,
and watching TV, I retired to the master suite again.

As soon as the light was out, I felt the boy again. I swore that I could
feel his entire length against me in the bed, from the hair on top of his
head, to his warm and slender chest, arms, hips, legs and feet. His touch
felt very nice, and comfortable against my near naked body. "Where were
you?" he muttered sleepily.

I was bemused by a quiz from a ghost, but replied, "I was just looking for
you. Where did you go?"

His sleepy voice answered, "I fell asleep here waiting for you." I snuggled
up against him, and kissed where I thought his cheek was. Whatever else he
was, he seemed to be a little boy looking for love. I felt his warm lips
return the kiss, and soon our lips were touching, his invisible teenage boy
lips pressing against my very real adult male lips. It had been so long
since my lips had touched anyone.

His hands reached around my back, and rubbed my naked skin. "Umm, you feel
good there," he said.

I timorously brought my hand to where his back should be. Would he be there
at all, what would he feel like? His skin was warm, and soft, and smooth
and soon I felt my hand roaming all around and over his back. Down to his
butt, I could swear that I felt downy hairs covering his butt cheeks. He
wore nothing at all, the clothing of choice, I supposed, for ghostly
spirits. But he was so, so warm between his ass cheeks in the valley
between those globes.

"Touch me there," he whispered into my ear, followed by a gentle lap of his
tongue against my earlobe. Emboldened by his permission, I ran both hands
over his light body, caressing his firmness and flatness, his smoothness
and moistness in the pucker between his delightful feeling rear end
cheeks. One hand stroked his moist opening, and the other stroked the firm
rod between his legs, which felt like it was about 5" long. His hands were
busy stroking me, too, and we both pleasured each other with touch.

I heard him, then. "Ohh, ohh, oh, yes, yes, please." I felt a hot sticky
spurt shoot from his cock all over my hand and the back of my arm, and he
gently bit my arm with the pleasure of his climax. His hand stroked my cock
faster and faster, until I shot, whether against him or on the bed, I don't
know. I felt him pull himself up to my face, and his warm breath told me
that he wanted a kiss. Our lips met in gentle combat, and our tongues, too,
as we expressed our passion for each other through that most sensitive
opening. He again rested his head against my chest, and, running his
fingers through my chest hairs, fell asleep again.

Spent, I joined him in slumber, with dreams of a lost love haunting my
sleep. I woke up the next morning, alone again. No come on my bed, other
than the load I'd spurted, but when I looked at my arm, I noticed a light
red mark, possibly from a lover's nip. I began to look forward to the
evenings. The dark brought with it companionship I hadn't found in a long,
long time. That evening, he came to me again, and I met him warmly. He
snuggled his smooth warm body against me, and trailed down my body, licking
my chin, to my nipples, to my navel and finally sucking in the head of my
cock into his hot, moist mouth. He licked and sucked alternately, until I
though I'd come, but gently pushed his head away from my cock.

"Let me suck you, too," I said, and he swiveled his body around so that his
knees were on either side of my head. I kissed and licked his smooth inner
thighs and young boy kneecaps, then pulled him up towards my head so that
his cock was positioned close to my mouth. As his mouth descended once
again on my dick, I took his penis into my mouth, tasting his pre
come. That surprised me, but maybe this boy was becoming more real for
me. I didn't know for sure, but his emission tasted delicious to me. My
hand crept up to his sweet tight ass again, and I stroked his small anus
with my index finger, which made him wiggle in delight.

We sucked each other for at least a half an hour, and caressed each other's
body. With his touch against me, and my caressing his skin, we became lost
in the sensations. It was too difficult to sense where he ended and I
began, or where I ended and he began. He was on top of me, and I urged him
to sit up on top of me by guiding him with my hands. He gently raised his
butt up, and I felt him reach back with both hands to separate his butt
cheeks. He then moved himself even further up, then lower that sweet ass
down, down, down onto my waiting tongue. I reached up and swabbed all
around his puckered anus with my tongue, feeling the roughness of the anal
ring blend into the smooth, moist flesh inside his rectum.`

Repeatedly I licked around that delightful, delicious opening into this
mysterious young boy's soul, and tasted his essence and sexuality. As my
tongue alternately stabbed, then caressed his anus, he cooed and moaned,
and his hips began to move involuntarily as he responded deeply to my
tongue fucking of his sweet round ass. I felt him stroking his cock with
his hand as I licked him, and I thought he would shoot off on me
again. After riding my tongue for a few minutes, he slowed down and
stopped, turning himself until he was facing me again, though I couldn't
see his face.

"Please, I want to fuck you," he said. I was stunned by this request, but
more than a little turned on. I had so wanted Billy to be able to fuck me
20 years ago, and had not tried anal sex with anyone since. The thought of
this boy's 5" or so cock up my ass thrilled me tremendously. I wished that
Billy had been more modestly endowed.

"Yes," I nearly shouted out. "I'd like you to fuck me, hard." I got up and
turned around so that I was on my knees, with my face on the pillow and my
ass up high. As I settled in, I felt his tongue tentatively touching my ass
hole, and felt hot passion flowing over me as this hot, sexy boy inserted
his tongue in my anus and his lips against my puckered ring. He slobbered
all over my butt, and I could feel his saliva dripping down my thighs as he
lubricated my willing rear end.

I felt him shift against me as he raised himself up, and the head of his
teen age cock inserted itself into my anus without hesitation. He slowly
eased himself forward, slipping his cock in slowly, but I pushed back,
hard, so that I would be fully impaled on his erect dick. He began humping
my butt with fervor, and I knew now the pleasures I'd been seeking with
Billy as a college student. "Please, fuck me hard, harder, you're going to
make me shoot!" I screamed.

"I love your hot cock up my ass fucking me, I want to suck your cock, I
want you to fuck me with it, fuck me!" I shouted, losing control. I'd never
lost control before, but I liked it. He rammed harder and harder, until I
felt him trying to ram his whole body in my hole, and I knew he'd shoot his
load in me, and I wanted him to fill me with his come, ghostly or not. I
wanted to feel his come dripping down my leg, and I wanted him to lick it
off me and out of my hole. I wanted to lick come out of his hole, and
pleasure him in a thousand different ways.

He grunted, "Yeah, this is where I want to be, fucking your ass with my fat
cock!" He shot his full load of sticky hot come inside me, and slumped
against me in exhaustion. We both oozed down into tired puddles of fucked
out man-boy sex, and he snuggled against me with his hand again stroking my
cock.

"Mystery boy, what is your name, what is your story?" I asked, not
expecting an answer.

"Billy," was the muffled response. My head jerked up in surprise. Billy?
What did it mean?

"Your name is Billy?" I said.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Billy, how did you, er, pass on to the spirit world?" I asked.

He giggled. "Pass on? You mean DIE? I'm not dead!" I was perplexed. Clearly
he was, well, not of this world, or else I was crazy.

"I'm a living, breathing 13 year old boy. Okay, I'm gay, and my parents are
pissed off, and I don't have any friends. But I'm smart enough to know I
won't always live here. Someday I'll go off to college and meet the man of
my dreams, and live happily ever after. Meanwhile, you're a figment of my
very active imagination, and I'm REALLY enjoying what my imagination's
coming up with. Heck, some things I never even THOUGHT of! If I didn't know
better, I'd fall in love with you, Mr. Imaginary!"

"I don't think I can deal with this," I said, more to myself than to Billy.

"Hey, man, go with the flow, okay?" At these words I stiffened in shock.
Virtually the same expression that my Billy had used time and again. I knew
then why I was so surely attracted to this mysterious boy. I had lost him
once, and couldn't bear to lose him again.

"Come here, Billy, I want to tell you something," I said, while opening my
arms to reclaim the love I would never give up again...

====================================================

If you liked this, check out Blue Eyed Accident, Boy Beach, and You and I
at the arcade on www.nifty.org (Gay Male, Adult Youth). I think you'll like
them, too. This work is protected by copyright, Copyright 2001, Jeff
Spencer, so please do NOT post anywhere else without getting permission of
the author first. All rights reserved. You can contact me at
ecolio157h700@yahoo.com, I always answer all letters, and I love hearing
from you. And especially YOU...

Jeff