From: nobody@REPLAY.COM (Anonymous) Subject: Old Lover, New Lover (M/B, cons) 1/2 Boisterous Story Date: 30 Mar 1997 12:36:18 +0200 Organization: Replay and Company UnLimited X-XS4ALL-Date: Sun, 30 Mar 1997 12:39:10 MET DST X-URL: http://www.replay.com/remailer/ X-001: Replay may or may not approve of the content of this posting X-002: Report misuse of this automated service to WARNING: The following purely fictional story contains graphic descriptions of sexual activities between an boy and a man. Read no further if you are under the age of 18, against free speech, or not generally aroused by stories of this type. If you do read this, consider it an exercise in releasing tension. It is my deepest wish that no child ever be harmed. An Old Lover, A New Lover by Boisterous Chris appeared at my door without warning, stabbing a saber through the emotional numbness I'd immersed myself in for nearly a decade. "Hi, Rick." I considered the beginning of three or four responses, but all remained inchoate as I stood helplessly before her. I gazed toward the street and saw an old Honda Accord with the engine running. Her breath, a silver cloud in the December air, brought my gaze back to her. She seemed ethereal. "Chris..or, Mary, I mean...." "Chris to you, Rick. Aren't you going to ask me in?" "Sure." I held the door wide so she could enter. "But don't you want to shut off the engine?" "I don't know yet." I wondered what sign she would have in order to know. Off balance again. She always did that to me. "Sit down," I said too quickly. "May I take your coat. No, wait. Your car is still running, so I guess you'd want to keep it...." She slid out of her denim jacket and tossed it at me, smiling impishly at me. The coat hit me full on the chest, but I managed to close my arms around it before it fell on the floor. "I'm fucking freezing today. Been driving straight through from New Mexico. Can I have a cup of tea?" "Of course...but your car?" "It's got a full tank of gas." "But this isn't a great neighborhood. Someone may decide to take it for a spin." "Don't worry. The doors are locked," she said, dismissing the topic. "Do you have an herbal lemon? A spoon of honey would be nice." I knew better than to ask how she would get into her car. Her keys must be in the ignition or it wouldn't be running. Knowing Chris, she didn't have a spare. She never had a spare anything. I went to the kitchen and put some water on to boil. She followed me. "Do you have any vodka to put in it?" "Sure," I said with a smile. I looked at her again. The last time I had seen her she looked like an anorexic 25 year old. She now looked like an anorexic 40 year old. Her hair, a frizzled brown bird's nest had not changed except for the addition of several strands of gray. Her mouth, drawn at a strange, exotic angle like Sigourney Weaver's, slowly drew into a smile. "You look great." "Thanks. So do you." Then I began digging for the tea. "I don't drink much tea these days." "Pity. Done acid lately?" When we were lovers, we did acid every weekend. "Not since...our last time." I kept myself from remembering the painful memories of that last acid trip, when my terrible secret had erupted from me like lava. "God, what a trip that was." I put two mugs, a jar of honey and a half empty bottle of vodka on the table. We both sat at the butcher block table and avoided looking at each other while we waited for the water to boil. "Fuck it," she muttered, hastily drawing the bottle to her lips. Several large bubbles rose to the top of the clear liquid. She smacked the bottle down on the table, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and asked, "You live alone?" "Yes." I went to my pantry and returned with a bottle of tequila. Both spirits had been in my pantry for a very long time. Following her lead, I disdained a glass and raised the bottle of tequila to my lips. "How many women have you fucked since the last time we fucked?" "Jesus," I uttered. For a moment, I felt trapped. "One. Just one. Why?" "How many men?" "Christ, Chris. What difference does it make?" "How many?" "I don't know. Five or six." "Which? Five or six?" I sighed. "Two." She laughed and grabbed the bottle of tequila. She lifted it to her lips, then paused just before drinking. "How many boys have you fucked?" "You haven't spoken a word to me in over 15 years and within three minutes, you are asking me how many times I've molested children. What do you think?" The bottle was still poised. "None." "Right," I said forcefully. "I told you I was attracted to boys, not that I did anything about it." She took another drink, again slamming the bottle onto the table. "You really hate yourself, don't you?" Of course, my first impulse was to deny it. Instead, I replied, "Maybe I do." "You have more love inside you than any person I've ever met. And you live alone. What a fucking waste." "Why are you here?" I asked. My tea kettle whistled. "Because my last lover--a woman--beat the shit out of me one too many times." "And you've got nowhere else to go?" I put my finger on the string to her teabag and poured the steaming water into her cup, stopping an inch below the rim. She filled the remaining space with vodka, foregoing the honey altogether. "I did come here to ask if you'd take me in for a while." "What if I had been married?" "I knew better." "Or had roommates." "You can't be miserable enough when others are around." "What if I say no?" "Then I'll keep driving." I poured myself a cup and put the kettle back on the stove. Instead of reaching for the steaming cup, I grabbed the tequila bottle. Chris cradled her cup in both hands and looked at me without a trace of vulnerability. "I'm sure you will make me plenty miserable." She didn't smile at her victory. "So I'm in that easy?" I shrugged. "I've got an extra bedroom." "Did I mention that I'm a lesbian?" "Sort of. Did I mention that I'm a pedophile?" "Just once." I grinned. "Twice as of now. Are you ready to shut your car off yet?" "There's one thing I still haven't told you...." "Why do I get the sense I don't want to hear this?" "It could make you very happy. Or more miserable, I suppose." She looked out the window, nibbling neatly on a cuticle. "Well, out with it." "Would you shut off my car? I have two suitcases in the back seat." "You've been here 10 minutes and already you are bossing me around." "Get used to it," she said with a wicked grin. "I don't suppose you'll be paying me rent." I didn't care, but felt too mean spirited to let the thought pass unspoken. "How about $200 a month. I might be able to pay more once I find a job." That stopped me in my tracks. "Sorry, Chris. That was rotten of me. You are welcome to stay--rent free--for 2 or 3 months. After you have a job and we see how things are going, you can choose whether to spend your rent dollars here or on your own place." "I hope I don't run out of gas," she prompted. "Fuck." I grabbed my coat from the hall closet. "You said you had a full tank." "I lied." "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I muttered as I stepped into the cold. I ran down my icy sidewalk and stopped just before I got to the car, remembering that she had told me the doors were locked. I almost went back to ask her for a key. Then I decided to check for myself. I pulled on the door handle and found it was indeed locked. I turned to go back inside but caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. Bending down to peer inside, I saw a child reaching to unlock the door. I opened the door and peered inside to meet a timid pair of bright blue eyes. "Are you Rick?" "Yes," I said. This was clearly the other thing she had not mentioned. "Are you Chris's son?" "Yes." He appeared to be 9 or 10 and was wearing a worn jacket. "Go inside. I'll bring the suitcases." "I want to help," he said. He got out and grabbed the smaller of the two suitcases. Even so, he could hardly lift it. To keep it off the ground, he had to lean heavily to one side. I shut off the engine, pocketed the keys and grabbed the other suitcase. I caught up with the struggling boy in only a couple of steps. My first impulse was to simply lift the suitcase from his hand. Instead, I brought my hand over his on the handle and helped him lift it. He smiled appreciatively at me, and I felt the old familiar pain of boy-love. What could Chris be thinking of? "What's your name?" "Austin. Didn't Chris tell you?" I looked at the boy. Austin. I remembered telling Chris that someday I wanted a son and that I wanted to name him Austin. That had been before I had gone into a drug-induced frenzy and confessed my attraction to boys. "You call her Chris?" "She hates being called mother." Chris met us at the door. "I see you two have met." I glared at her. "Are you insane?" Instantly I regretted the word choice. Her mother had been in a mental institution the entire time we dated. She laughed easily. "Very much so. You used to find it intriguing." Austin and I dropped the bags in the middle of the living room. I took his jacket and hung it in the closet next to mine. "Let me show you two to your room. I'm sorry that it only has one bed." "That's okay. Austin can't stand to sleep alone. He's real snuggler." "Chris," he said. If his cheeks hadn't already been red from the cold, I'm sure they would have turned red from embarrassment. I made a pesto sauce for dinner while they settled in to their room. I heard water running in the tub. Chris came out to help me set the table. "Remember the time I made manicotti for you?" "It wasn't the worst meal I ever tasted." "No," she said, grinning foolishly. "That would have been the tuna casserole with spinach noodles and green olives." I laughed. Now that was the worst meal I ever ate." "I haven't improved on my culinary skills on the past 15 years, Rick." "No problem. Just stay the hell out of the kitchen." My laugh was cut short by the sight of her son standing in the doorway. He was rubbing his hair with a towel and wore only a pair of white briefs. I saw his white supple skin, glowing like the image of an angel, and it sent a shock of longing and joy and love through me like I had not experienced in years. I looked quickly away, afraid to drink too deeply of the intoxicating visage. "Sorry. I didn't mean to swear in front of Austin." "Austin, did you hear him swear?" she asked sweetly. "Yes, Chris. He said hell." "Is that the first time you've ever heard that word, Sweetie?" Austin stepped from the doorway and into the kitchen. I busied myself at the sink, struggling with myself to keep from looking at his near-naked presence. Austin laughed, his voice high and pure. "First time today, I think. Your favorite word today has been fuck. Hell is kind of lame compared to that, don't you think?" "How the fuck would I know?" She laughed. I looked at Austin and saw him grinning. When the boy saw me looking at him, he got a solemn expression on his face. "Thank you for letting us stay here, Rick." "You're welcome." Again, I looked away. In a breathless voice I said, "Get dressed for dinner." The boy scampered away. "Isn't he adorable?" Chris asked. "This isn't going to work." My emotions raged within me. I shook with the effort of keeping it all together. Chris touched my forearm. "Relax. Have a little respect for yourself, for who you are. You are not a monster. You are a good man." Then she rolled her eyes and in a voice heavy with sarcasm, said, "If there is such a thing." Austin eagerly took his first bite of his dinner. I noticed it took him a long time to muster the courage for a second bite. I doubted he had ever tasted pesto before. There was a stricken look about him, but his shyness and good manners prohibited him from saying how wretched he thought the food was. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a four-pack of White Castle frozen hamburgers and tossed them in the microwave. I set a bottle of ketchup on the table and exchanged his pasta plate with a plate of steaming mini-hamburgers. Neither Chris nor Austin spoke of my actions, but as I listened to Chris telling me about the afternoon in an Indian smoke lodge that had nearly killed her, I saw the look of appreciation on the boy's face. While I listened to her, I also took advantage of the opportunity to study Austin more closely. He had white-blond hair cut in bowl fashion so that it hung evenly across his forehead just above the dark, narrow eyebrows. The curve of his brows provided a delicate accent to his long lashes and over-sized brilliantly blue eyes. His nose and chin were rather narrow and pointed, but his lips were full and pale. When Austin moved, his hair was so fine and so soft that it fluttered about him with fluid-like smoothness. He was pale and slender, giving him the appearance of fine and delicate bone china. After dinner, which was served quite late, Chris sent Austin off to prepare for bed. As they settled into the softer chairs of the living room, Chris pulled a joint from her shirt pocket. "Want to get high?" "I haven't done that for at least 10 years." "That doesn't answer my question." "You always were a bad influence on me." She took a gargantuan hit, then passed it to me. I had just taken a much more modest hit when Austin danced into the room, again clad in nothing but his white Hanes. "Yuckie! That stuff turns your brain to mush, Chris." "Just what the doctor ordered," came her glib reply. I hastily returned the joint to her, embarrassed at being caught and reprimanded by a 10 year old. "Chris told me you wouldn't be a druggie." "Shut up, Austin. I just got him talked into trying pot again. Give me a goodnight kiss." Austin climbed next to her on the couch and gave her a huge and solemn hug. He kissed her cheek and she kissed his. As this occurred, I couldn't help but notice the surprising fullness of the boy's buttocks. The rest of him seemed so skinny. I also noticed that the areolas of his nipples were unexpectedly large, nearly the size of quarters. Austin's torso was dotted with dozens of small, brown birthmarks. "Goodnight, Rick." "Goodnight, Austin. Feel free to make yourself at home. Eat anything you wish. Use anything you wish. I want you to be happy here." "Thanks. Chris told me you were really neat. She was right. First time for everything." "Hey, you!" Chris called, tossing a couch pillow at him. Austin darted from the room giggling. A moment later he was back, wiggling his ass at her. "You missed me!" Before she could throw another pillow, he was gone. "Isn't he wonderful?" "Chris, you must know how I feel about him." "Seems every woman I've ever lived with has considered him a pain in the ass. Or worse, one of the enemy, a male." "That's too bad." "He deserves to be around someone who appreciates him, respects him, someone who wants him around. Besides me, that is." "Chris, you know I would never have said you could stay if you had told me about him." "That's why I didn't tell you." She passed the joint back to me. "And now that you are hopelessly in love with him, you won't want us to leave." "I am hopelessly in love with him. But I do want you to leave. As soon as you can." "You tell him we can't stay here. And tell him why." I took a hit, feeling my lungs heat up from the sweet smoke. "How can you stay here, knowing you can never leave him alone with me?" She laughed at me. "Why should I be afraid to leave my son alone with someone who loves him as much as you?" When I didn't respond, she held out her hand. I passed the joint, now a roach, back to her. My head spun from the pot. Perhaps it also spun from the chaos that she had brought into my life. That night she told me of the past years of her life. A decade ago she had come from a gay bar and walked hand-in-hand with a woman she picked up. Four college jocks had dragged them into an alley and raped them. Nine months later, Austin was born. Her last lover, Angela, had beat her nearly every weekend for the two years they lived together. Then she came home early one night and walked in to find her 10 year old son on her knees with his face in the crotch of his 16 year old babysitter. Another 16 year old boy had been waiting for a turn at Austin. Austin had defended the older boy, saying he didn't mind the things they did. When she tried to explain to Austin that the babysitter was just using him for pleasure, that he didn't even like Austin, he yelled at her in tearful rage. He said that the babysitter was nicer to him than Angela was to Chris. The next day, armed with a truth that was obvious to a 10 year old, she admitted it to herself. They packed two suitcases and drove out of town. Later, when I lay in bed, I couldn't sleep. Disjointed thoughts and brightly colored patterns flooded my stoned brain. I found myself with penis in hand, slowly masturbating. I did it for comfort, but as my juices rose, the visage of Austin's sweet nearly-naked body came unbidden. Then I thought about his babysitter, imagining the boy's beautiful face contorted as he struggled to accommodate a huge cock in his mouth. A surge of lust sent me over the edge to orgasm. As my semen seeped through stomach hairs to settle against my skin with a cool sensation, I felt the sting of guilt and weakness. Having the delicate beautiful boy under my roof was too great a risk. Yet I knew I could never force them to leave. Agony, no matter how tinged by excitement and love, is still agony. Fortunately the week ahead of me was filled with extra duties. I would be home in time to fix dinner, but afterwards, I retired to my room to do sales reports. I made sure they felt at home but didn't interact much. That Friday at the dinner table, Chris asked, "Any bars for dikes in this town?" "Yeah, I think so. The Swan, for one." "Would you mind if I went out searching for love? I'm so horny I could die." Not much Chris could say would shock me. I looked at Austin to gauge his reaction. He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. "She gets that way a lot. If we don't let her go, she'll get crabby." "Hey! I'm sitting right here you know." I squirmed in my seat and concentrated on spearing a stem of broccoli. Despite my trepidation, I felt a thrill at the prospect of spending some one-on-one time with Austin. "You've only been here one week. Austin probably doesn't want to be left alone with me." "I don't mind," the boy said quickly. After a moment of silence, he hung his head and added, "If you don't want me around, I can hang out in my room." I looked at Chris. She stuck her tongue out in pantomime of sadness. "I was thinking we could go to Blockbuster and rent a Nintendo or a Sega." "Wow! You mean it?" Chris laughed. "Austin, sit back down and finish your dinner." Austin forced himself to take a bite. "Rick, do you think we could get Sonic the Hedgehog?" Later, as she went out the door, Chris stood in front of the television. "Move, Chris!" Austin called, straining to see the screen. "You listen to Rick and do what he tells you. Rick, you make sure he takes a bath tonight. And if you don't mind, please wash his hair. He does a miserable job of it." She put her coat on. "Oh, and don't forget, Austin--clean underwear. And in bed by midnight." "Jeez," the boy whined, "Just go already, would you?" The night flew past. I'm no good at video games, and I don't even like them very much. But watching a thoroughly engrossed Austin made the evening magical. Too soon, I had to say, "Austin, it's after 11:00. Time for your bath." The boy bounded to his feet. "Okay. Will you help me fill the tub?" My small bathroom seemed close as I knelt to adjust the temperature. Austin stood just behind me and I could hear him pull his shirt off. I knew I had to make a quick exit to preserve my sanity. Already I could feel pressure building in my briefs. Finally I had the temperature right, so I set the plug. As I stood I noticed he was slipping his denim jeans off. "I'll give you a little privacy," I said, trying to keep my self from looking at him as I eased past. "Oh, keep me company. Please?" I stopped short as his hand timidly grasped at my wrist. He still wore his white briefs. "I don't think I should...." "Please?" He didn't let go of my wrist and I didn't pull away. "Besides, you have to wash my hair." I looked down into his radiant face, which was eager and fearless. "Well, this isn't exactly a great place to hang out. Not much furniture." "Jake always used to sit on the stool." "Jake?" "My last babysitter. He was really cool." I sat carefully on the toilet, remembering what Chris had told me about this babysitter. Then I asked, "What did you like about him?" "Well, he was older and he knew a lot of stuff. And he would talk to me, you know? Most of my other babysitters would ignore me and talk on the phone or read magazines." My small bathroom is arranged so the stool faces toward the tub. He stood less than two feet from me, and my eyes were full of his supple skin and the graceful lines of his slender body. I couldn't keep myself from looking at the enticing shape of his genitals beneath his briefs. Birthmarks abounded, chocolate brown against the stark whiteness of his skin. I gazed at his crotch. Facing fully toward me, Austin hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. When he straightened, standing stark naked with his hands limply at his sides, he asked, "How come you don't have a girlfriend, Rick?" Discomfort overwhelmed me. The question was a difficult one, and the boy's naked beauty posed a huge distraction. Without any shred of self-control, I stared. Though I had never seen a naked 10 year old before, I knew Austin's genitals were small. His testes, pulled into a tight little knot of flesh, pushed his circumcised penis outward. It was an inch in length but was so thin that it didn't appear stubby. No work of art could ever capture the exquisite perfection of the glans. I guess Austin gave up on me because he tried to answer his own question. "Chris says you don't like girls. But you don't have a boyfriend either, do you?" "Um...no." Austin turned his back on me, bending over to turn off the faucet. While appreciating the beauty of his surprisingly fleshy buttocks, I snaked a hand down my jeans to make my erection more comfortable. The dark crease between his cheeks ended in the shadowy bump of his scrotum. He turned back to me and stood with his hands on his hips. "Chris gets crabby if she has to go three days without sex. Don't you get horny?" Of course, I had never been more horny than at that moment. "Sure. Do you?" As soon as I said it, I regretted it. "Uh-huh," he said. He settled himself into the bathtub. "Do you ever play with your thingy?" "Yes, but let's talk about something else." "Oh." He nervously splashed water on his chest. "Sorry." For a moment I thought he would cry. "It's okay, Austin. Hey, tell me about the friends you had in New Mexico." "Well, I already told you about Jake...." "What about kids your own age?" His sadness continued. "No. I have a hard time making friends. I mean, Jake wasn't really my friend. He was getting paid to watch me. We move a lot, too, so I sort of keep to myself at school." "Speaking of that, we've got to get you registered on Monday." "I know." "Don't you like school, Austin?" "It's okay. But as soon as I get used to a place, we move again." "How are your grades?" "What do you mean?" "Well, most kids who move a lot end up failing a lot of classes." "It's pretty hard to flunk fourth grade." "Do you read okay?" "I love to read." "Great. Tomorrow we'll go to a bookstore and buy you some new books." "Wow. Really?" His face brightened. Suddenly he stood and began vigorously rubbing the soap between his hands to build a rich lather. He started rubbing suds all over his body. "I like the way the soap feels, all slippery." As he said it, both hands descended upon his genitals. As I watched his every move, a dull ache developed in my groin from over-arousal. He sat to rinse the soap from his body, then turned to me and said, "Ready to wash my hair?" I stood awkwardly because of the pressure in my crotch. As I leaned across the tub to grab the Pert shampoo, he looked directly at the tubular bulge in my jeans and said, "Wow." I chose to ignore the comment and quickly knelt next to the tub. My cheeks burned from embarrassment as I grabbed the toothbrush cup and scooped water onto his hair. I shivered from passion as I brought my hands to his silken hair. "That feels nice," he cooed. He sat straight as I worked the shampoo into his scalp with my fingertips. Looking down, I saw his penis bobbing in the soapy water. It was almost more than I could bear. I turned on the faucet to get clean water for rinsing. When I had finished, I handed him a towel and started to leave. "Will you dry my hair?" "Okay." I took the towel in both hands and rubbed his hair vigorously. To maintain his balance, he grabbed my hips. When I finished I handed him the towel. As I slipped out of the bathroom, I caught one glimpse of his perfect 2-1/4 inch erection. I played Sega until he emerged from the bathroom. "Can I play, too?" he asked, standing tall in front of me in his Hanes with the obvious bulge of his erection inches from my face. "You need to go to bed. It's late, and your mom said you'd turn into a pumpkin if I let you stay up till midnight." "Aw, Rick. She won't be home till after 2:00. Maybe not at all. Just let me play one more game." "No way. Get going." "Will you tuck me in?" "You get settled and I'll stop to say goodnight." I waited five minutes. He had the covers pulled to his chin. I turned the light off and said, "Sleep tight, Austin." "Rick, would you sit with me for a minute?" I sat on the edge of the bed. He brought a hand out from under the covers and grasped mine. We sat in silence and held hands for several minutes. In a sleepy voice, he said, "I had a great night. Thanks, Rick." "I had fun, too. Good night." I lightly touched his cheek, then slipped out of the room. I had a hard time falling asleep and eventually gave in to masturbation. I awoke with a start. Austin had crawled into my bed and was nuzzling his face onto my hairy chest. "What are you doing here?" He froze. "You need to go back to your own bed." I guess I was sort of freaked out. I did not want to become a child molester. He slid off the bed and without speaking left my bedroom. I felt awful for sending him away, knowing I had hurt his feelings. It was 2:30. I lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. It was about 3:30 when there was a gentle rap on my door. Chris poked her head inside and asked, "Did Austin try to come in here tonight?" I sat up. "Yes." "And you sent him away." "Well, yes." "Come here." I grabbed my robe and followed her to the living room. Chris was stark naked. Huddled in a corner of the couch with no blanket, Austin shivered visibly. His briefs seemed to glow in the dim light. "Why is he out here?" I asked. "When I sent him to your room, I never considered you would kick him out." "You sent him? Why?" Austin sat up and sniffled. I could tell he was crying. "I have company in my bed." "Oh," I said softly. "You can be such a jerk." "Me? What about you?" "Don't fight," Austin pleaded in a trembling voice. Chris said, "We're done fighting, honey. I'm drunk and I'm going back to bed." I sighed. "Austin, I'm sorry. I thought you could just go back to your bed. Come on." "Can I just have a blanket, please?" "Come on. My big warm bed is waiting." "You don't want me there." "Is that what you think? I want you there. Believe me. I want you there." I stepped close to him and held out my hand. He took it and I led him to my room. Under the covers, I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around his skinny shoulders. His crying slowly increased until he sobbed loudly. I rubbed his back and talked soothingly to him until he got control of himself. When he was calm enough to answer, I asked, "What's the matter, Austin." But I had waited too long--he was asleep. I felt the heat of his body as I cradled it with one arm. I loved him so much that the intensity of my feelings went beyond any previous experience. I tried to imagine how he was feeling. He'd just been uprooted and moved half-way across the country. He stayed in a stranger's house on a day to day basis. Plus, he had no friends. I knew he dreaded starting at yet another school, especially in the middle of a school year. If I had been in his situation, I'm sure I would have crumbled under the pressure. Yet he danced around the house, making clever jokes, and giving me the best week of my entire life. What a resilient kid! I pulled his hot body tighter against mine, wishing I could just draw him right inside me. I wanted to take away his pain, his fears. I wished that I could make him feel safe and loved. What he needed, I knew, was a father. But I knew I could never be the father he needed. Even if he was open to it, I'm not the father type. As if I didn't need any reminding, Austin shifted in his sleep and brought his bent knee to rest right on my crotch. I felt my penis begin to twitch and bulge against my cotton briefs. I fell asleep more than an hour later. It was after 9:00 when I awoke. I was alone in bed and I could hear voices in the next room. Chris and Austin spoke softly as they ate breakfast. I sat up, preparing to go to the bathroom when I heard Austin's clear voice say, "I like Rick a lot, Chris." "I do, too, honey." I felt guilty for being so sneaky, but I slid over to press my ear against the wall. "You don't understand. I really like him." "I'm glad you like him, Austin." There was a long pause. "I'm afraid you're going to make us move again." "No, Austin. We came here for you." "What do you mean?" "Never mind. We'll be here for a while. When we do leave here, we won't move very far away." I knew it was wrong to listen. My conscience got the best of me. I grabbed my robe and headed for the bathroom. Austin heard my door open and stopped me in the hallway. "Good morning," I said cheerfully. He wore sweatpants with no shirt and was barefoot. "Good morning." He blocked my path. "Um, Chris's friend is in the bathroom right now. I paused for a moment and could hear the water running. "Oh." He grabbed my hand. "Come on. I'll scramble some eggs for you." I hate breakfast and rarely eat it. Of course, if Austin wanted to make me breakfast, I would eat breakfast. "Great." While I was eating slightly runny scrambled eggs and toast, Chris's friend came into the kitchen. Chris introduced her and within five minutes, they had returned to the bedroom. Austin and I sat in silence for a moment. When the sound of passionate moaning reached us a moment later, I said, "Oh, Jesus." Austin laughed, his cheeks flushed. "Did you like having sex with my mom?" I cleared my throat. He looked at me as though he expected me to answer. "Well, Austin, she was my first lover." "Did you like doing it with her?" "I'm not comfortable talking about it, kiddo." "She told me all about it." "What did she say," I asked, not sure if I wanted to know. "She said you got drunk and barfed earlier in the night, but that when the time came you rose to the occasion." I wondered if he got the joke about rising to the occasion. When I didn't say anything, Austin added, "She said that you always made her feel special." "It's nice of her to say so." I needed to change the subject. "I've got an idea. Why don't we play a few games of Sonic?" Chris's friend left mid-afternoon. We went to Pizza Hut for dinner and went bowling after that. Austin scored a 70 and was proud of it. He looked so sweet as he threw the ball, struggling with its weight. As he waited to see how many pins he would knock over, he stood with crossed legs and his tongue at the corner of his mouth. For some reason, I fixated on that tongue as the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I longed to kiss him. We watched a video. At his bedtime, Austin turned to Chris and asked, "Can I sleep in Rick's room again tonight?" I straightened in my chair. "Don't you think you should stay with your mother?" "She snores too loud." She replied in a rather nasty voice, "Don't forget, Austin, that he kicked you out last night." "But he let me in later." "Chris, when I sent him away, I thought he was going back to your room. I had no idea your bed was...full." She laughed. "Well, if he got used to sleeping with you, then I wouldn't have to kick him out of bed when I bring a friend home." "Can I, Rick?" "I guess it's okay with me if it is okay with Chris." My heart pounded. I hoped they couldn't tell how excited I was by the prospect of sharing my bed with the boy of my dreams. Austin went off to brush his teeth, and Chris pulled out the ziploc bag where she kept her pot. "Get high with me?" "Chris, I don't know. I gave that shit up a long time ago." "Until I came to visit, anyway. Come on. It's the weekend." "Don't you feel bad about letting Austin see you getting stoned?" "No. Why should I lie to him about it? That would be a stupid as trying to keep him from finding out I'm a lesbian. He's a sensitive but tough kid, Rick. He can deal with it." "What can I deal with?" Austin asked, walking into the room dressed only in a tee shirt and underwear. "Seeing me smoke pot." He came over and sat on the arm of my recliner, leaning back so his shoulder blade rested against my shoulder. When Chris extended her arm to pass me the joint, he deftly took it from her and passed it to me. "I've had a lot of chances to practice dealing with it. She's always getting high." Chris laughed, then reached over and grabbed hold of the waistband on his Hanes. She snapped it. "Ow!" Austin protested. When she reached for his waistband a second time, he slid off the arm of the chair and onto my lap, his butt coming directly upon the erection that was straining against the confines of my jeans. "Rick will protect me from you." "But I won't protect you from Rick." I took a hit to keep from getting freaked out. He took the joint from me and handed it to Chris. He squirmed his butt around to get more comfortable. This, of course, made me significantly less comfortable. "I think you should get going to bed," I said in a strained voice. "No way," Austin said defiantly. Chris changed the subject, and we sat there sharing the joint while Austin snuggled into my lap. Eventually he turned so his cheek rested against my chest. I could smell the sweet smoke of the pot and the flowery scent of his hair. Chris and I got into a huge and absurd discussion that compared the works of Ernest Hemingway with Flannery O'Connor. You have to be stoned to even see a connection between the two writers. But Chris and I could do things like that. We connected as undergraduate students at a small Catholic college, and we clicked nearly 20 years later as socially isolated 40 year olds. While we alternately agreed and quibbled and smoked three joints, Austin settled himself into my arms and fell sound asleep. "Isn't he beautiful?" Chris asked, gazing affectionately at her sleeping son. "Too beautiful to be a mere mortal." "Oh, he's mortal. Haven't you noticed that he farts and burps?" I smiled. His head lay against my chest just below the collar bone. I admired the graceful lines of his slender thighs. His bare feet pointed toward Chris. "Why did you name him Austin?" "Your favorite name." "Yeah." "Rick, I would never have left you if you hadn't told me you liked boys. You're the only person in my entire life that loved me." I looked away. "But you were right to leave. I can't really love any woman--not in the sense of husband and wife, anyway." "You were really good for me, Rick. I never told you that. I think you saved my life. You gave me an understanding that love wasn't just some Catholic bullshit idea. I want you to give that to my son." "You've already given it to him." "Well, maybe I want to give some of it back to you, as well. Tell me honestly, could anything make you happier than having Austin sleeping in your arms?" "No." "Him either." She lit a Panatella cigar. "Those things stink." "I know." She grinned and blew a cloud of smoke my way. "Why don't you two go to bed?" I got my arm behind his knees and easily stood. I was amazed at how light he was. He opened his eyes, met mine, then closed them again. He pressed his cheek against my chest and the slightest smile passed across his face. When I woke up, daylight streamed through the mini-blinds. The covers were pooled around my knees. I was on my back and Austin had his head on my stomach. His hand was inside my briefs, tightly grasping my aching erection. An exquisite wave of pleasure passed through me, and I gasped. I could tell that the elastic of my briefs had been pushed back and my cock stood exposed to the air. My glans felt cool and it tingled. I realized that while I was asleep, Austin had been sucking my cock. He froze when he heard me gasp. It seemed like an impasse, neither of us moving for a long time. I flexed the muscle to make my cock twitch. Still nothing. It felt strange to go from being asleep to being wide awake and very sexually aroused. My judgment must have been impaired because I put my hand on the soft hair at the back of Austin's head and nudged him toward my cock. My hips lifted toward his face. I felt the pressure of his lips and the tickling of his tongue as it danced around my glans. I rubbed my hand down his back, moving past the elastic of his briefs. As he engulfed the glans into his mouth, I cupped one fleshy cheek of his butt into my palm. He began bobbing his head. When I reached between his legs to tease his balls, he began to tremble. We both froze when there was a solid knocking on the bedroom door. "Come on, guys. Get your lazy asses out of bed!" Chris yelled. Austin quickly returned his head to the pillow while I pulled the covers up. "We'll be out in a minute," I called, hoping to keep her from opening the door. Austin looked stricken. "Oh, God. What did I do? Jesus, please don't tell Chris. Promise you won't say anything." I put my arm on his shoulder and pulled him back against me. "Just relax, buddy. I won't tell." "It won't matter," he moaned. A few large tears spilled from his beautiful blue eyes. "She'll know. She always knows everything." "It'll be okay, Austin. We don't ever have to do this again." "I don't want to move, Rick. Please." I sat us both up and hugged him tight. I rocked him and used my most soothing voice. Eventually he stopped crying. Chris rapped on the door again. "Come on, guys. One of you has to cook breakfast for me." We both got dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. Chris looked at her son and immediately asked, "Why have you been crying?" Austin hung his head and didn't answer. "Rick, why has he been crying?" He looked at me with intense desperation and said, "Don't tell her!" A moment later he bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door. Chris looked calmly at me. "What did you do to him?" "I'm not sure." I ran my fingers through my hair. "But maybe he should sleep with you from now on." I felt confused and shaken. I scrambled some eggs and got the griddle hot for pancakes. Chris sat silently at the table. A few minutes later Austin came back into the kitchen and sat across from his mother. "Don't make us move, please. I won't do it again. I promise, Chris. Please," he pleaded. "Slow down, kiddo. What did you do?" "It wasn't like with Jake. Rick didn't make me do it. I just couldn't help it. Don't make us move again. "Oh, I get it." She looked at me, then at Austin. I felt about two inches tall. Chris's temper could strike awe into the heart of the bravest person, and I couldn't tell if she was about to lose her temper. "First off, we did not move to get you away from Jake. We moved to get me away from Angela. Understand?" "Yes." Though still upset, he seemed subdued. "Second, I want you to tell me anytime someone tries to hurt you or force you to do something you don't want to do. I know Rick would never hurt you or force himself on you. But if that happens, tell me immediately. Otherwise, spare me the details, okay?" "Oh. So you don't mind if I...if we..." She seemed ready to get angry. "If you what?" Austin figured her out quickly, before I did. "Nothing, Chris. Nothing at all." "Now, are you guys willing to go cross country skiing with me or do you have to go back to bed for awhile?" "Chris!" Austin complained. I'm sure my cheeks turned as red as his. Chris smiled triumphantly. Instead of renting skis for Chris and Austin, I took them to a sporting goods store and bought them skis and boots. We had a great day and finished it by eating dinner at Red Lobster. To anyone around us, I'm sure we looked like a wholesome family. In fact, for a while, I felt like part of a wholesome family--just one that had unique sleeping arrangements. As we milled around getting ready for bed, I said, "Chris, you've got to get him registered for school tomorrow. He'll get too far behind." "Yeah, I know." "I don't want to go to school," Austin said, coming to stand between us. He held a foamy toothbrush in his hand and bluish foam dribbled down to his chin. "Go spit that out," Chris scolded. After Austin plodded off to the bathroom, Chris said, "He's barely civilized. That's the difference between sons and daughters." "Oh, I see. So you were a civilized child? I find that hard to believe." "Bastard." When I went to brush my teeth, Austin was hugging Chris and saying goodnight. I realized that for the first night since they had come to live with me, Austin's bedtime ritual did not include prancing around in his underwear. He wore jeans and a tee shirt. As I turned to leave the bathroom, Austin appeared in front of me. "Are you coming to bed?" he asked, his voice as sweet as a choir boy's. "Yes." When I got to the bedroom, he had the covers pulled to his chin. I was disappointed and concerned. I had hoped to view the beauty of his nearly naked body. Bedtime displays of his charms had become the most anticipated and vital part of my day. I was concerned because it seemed that earlier in the day the three of us had negotiated a sort of agreement about the privacy of our bedroom. But his behavior seemed totally devoid of flirtation. "Austin, are you okay?" "Sure. Why do you ask?" I started to undress, and was pleased that he studied me intensely. "I don't know...you wore your jeans when you brushed your teeth. You've never done that before." "Well, I was embarrassed." "Why? I mean why now? I've seen you in your underwear every day for the past nine days." I stood at the side of the bed, naked except for my white briefs. Because he stared, I paused, letting him see what he wanted to see. My flaccid penis twitched. "I didn't want Chris to see. . . ." "She's seen you before." His nervous, shy expression melted my heart. "Not like this," he mumbled. Then I figured out why he had kept his jeans on. Unable to resist the impulse, I pulled back the covers to look at his awe-inspiring body. He allowed me to do this, but he didn't have the courage to look at me. His small erection made an unmistakable bulge in the front of his briefs. "Austin, your beauty defies comparison." "What?" he asked, wrinkling his brow. I turned the light off. "Never mind." "Rick?" I paused on my way under the covers. "Yeah?" "Never mind." We were both very nervous. I settled onto my pillow and neither of us spoke or moved for several minutes. "Are you sleepy?" he asked in a small voice. "No." "Me neither." I can't explain why I why I was frozen into inactivity. I know I was very nervous. I knew I was getting ready to break a vow I'd made to myself over a decade ago. I was going to have sex with a boy. I had wrestled with it all day, knowing that my lust would overcome my conscience eventually. Now I lay in the dark staring at the ceiling, not touching Austin at all. I had just decided that I should start out by hugging him as I had done in the last two nights when we slept together, when Austin asked, "Remember what I was doing this morning?" "Wow, do I remember." "Well, can I do that to you again?" While struggling with my conscience, this beautiful child worked up enough courage to make the first move. But then, he had made the first move in the morning while I was still sleeping. My cock ached from over-arousal, and it would have been very easy to say yes. But that would not have been love. "Austin, I want to make love to you." I raised on one elbow and brought my face to hover over his. He didn't move at all. He flinched or quivered when I touched his shoulder. In a very high-pitched, squeaky voice that trembled, he asked, "You want to stick it in my ass?" I brought my hand to his cheek. "What I mean is that I want to hug and caress you and kiss you." "Oh." I brought my lips to his forehead with a feather-light kiss. He tilted his head back, and I raised up enough to view the parted lips he offered to me. As I kissed his lips, gently at first, my hand roamed down the bumpy contour of his ribs. Breath exploded through his nose as he moved his lips in an attempt at kissing me back. Still kissing, I worked my hand across his heaving stomach. When I wormed my fingertips under the waistband of his shorts, he moaned into my mouth. When I brushed across the silky tip of his circumcised cock, he broke the kiss and panted for breath. His knees raised and his hand tugged at my wrist. "What did you do to me?" he whispered urgently. "I just touched you. Did you orgasm?" "I don't know...I guess so." "Haven't you had an orgasm before?" I pulled my hand from his briefs. "No. It was kind of scary." "Next time, just let yourself go. Orgasms are great. I promise you'll like it." "Is that like what happens when the sperm comes out?" "Yes." "But Jake said I was too young to do that." Instead of being pissed off at some 16 year old I would never meet, I leaned down and kissed his nose. "You're too young to make a baby, but not too young to enjoy sex." He raised up to meet my lips, and as we kissed I again explored his chest with my fingertips. When I brushed his nipple, he made a noise like a kitten. Of course, I returned to pay more attention to the solid nub of flesh. The way he moved around on the mattress, I knew his arousal returned. I moved to caress his neck with my lips. The graceful curves and soft skin beneath his ear, sent my blood thrumming through my ears. I could feel a vague sense of wetness at the place where my glans pressed urgently against my underwear. After such an extended period of arousal, I imagined about a gallon of pre-cum must have seeped from my cock. He tentatively brought his hand to my hip. I swiveled my hips to bring my cock right to his fingertips. When he rubbed across the damp, slick cotton of my briefs, I moaned into his open mouth. He broke off our kiss. "Did you shoot your sperm?" "No. The wet stuff is called pre-cum, and it seeps out when I'm really excited." I grabbed his briefs. When he lifted his hips, I pulled them off. His hand instantly returned to my cock. "Yours too?" he asked hopefully. I stood to remove them. When I climbed back under the covers, I moved my body over his and rubbed my hairy torso over his skinny, hairless one. Our mouths locked in another kiss. I could feel the small nugget of his cock rubbing against my stomach. My cock slid across his soft thigh, leaving a wet trail where it touched. I knew I couldn't wait much longer for an orgasm. I rolled onto my side and grabbed his slender hips, pulling his butt against my pelvis. I rubbed my cock into the soft fleshy buttocks for a moment, then raised his leg so my cock could go between his legs. After releasing his leg so my cock was trapped between his thighs, I reached around to explore his loose scrotum. By bending at the waist, I could bring my lips to his neck. I whispered, "I love you, Austin." My thumb and forefinger seized his erection. There was little room on the shaft for a second finger, so I used the extra fingers to jostle his balls. They immediately began to crawl closer to his groin. To my delight, the boy brought a hand between his legs to grasp at the part of my cock that protruded through his pressed thighs. "That feels good," I whispered. He kept his hand in place on my foreskin as I began thrusting. I wasn't sure how long it would take Austin to reach orgasm, so I worked slowly on his short cock. I wished that he had a foreskin like me so I didn't have to worry about chafing him. His hand circled around and around my slick glans, bringing me closer to a climax. The slickness of my cock inspired me to gather my saliva on my hand and smear it around his cock. When I rubbed my slippery fingers across his glans, Austin firmly grabbed my cock and held on. His body bucked a few times, and I knew he was in the midst of his second orgasm. I thrust, feeling my pubic hair smashed against his supple butt, and suddenly my world exploded. I bit into his neck and held on for dear life as my cock erupted. Five, six, seven times. After a minute or two of recovery, I let go of his softening cock and used my hand to turn his head toward me. I kissed him gently. Half of the bed was drenched with my semen, but we snuggled close and were both able to stay dry and comfortable. The alarm went off at 6:00. I had to disentangle myself from Austin before I could reach over to silence it. He didn't even stir. I got out of bed and staggered to the shower. Chris waited in the hall for me to emerge so she could shower. I went back to my room and turned on the light. Still Austin did not stir. I sat on the edge of the bed and studied his face, made even more innocent by slumber. His dark eyelashes curled enticingly. His slender, straight nose and dark, thin eyebrows gave him an almost feminine look. But he was not feminine--he was 100% boy, and I could not have liked the way he looked more than I did right then. When I trudged in the door at 6:30 that night, I already fantasized about going to bed. Nothing had gone right all day long. Chris met me at the door. "He's in his...your room crying. He won't talk to me, but his first day of school must have been pretty bad." "How about you? Have a good day?" I was determined to be cheerful. All I wanted was to crawl in bed--alone--and go to sleep. "I applied to four jobs. One of them would even be worth taking. If they offered it, of course." "Great," I said with false enthusiasm. "What do you want for dinner?" "I'm making spaghetti." "Uh-oh." "I'm using that store-bought Prego stuff you had in the pantry." "Should I try to talk to him?" "Well, maybe you should just leave him in there to cry for a couple more hours." She didn't even grace me with a smile. I knocked on my bedroom door. No answer. I opened it a crack and peered inside. "Austin?" "Hi, Rick," he said in a small, shaky voice. "Can I come in?" "It's your room." Austin spoke without rancor, but still it made me sad. He didn't have a room. Or even any toys. I remembered all the toys I had at age 10. I probably had 300 dollars worth of G.I. Joes when I was his age. I edged into the room. "I've been thinking maybe we could turn my den into a bedroom for you. You know, so you could have a room of your own." He looked up from his pillow. "Really?" "We can go shopping for a bed tomorrow night." "I'd love to have my own room. Can I put posters on the wall?" "Of course." Suddenly he looked worried again. "But I want to sleep with you." "I sure wouldn't stop you." I sat beside him and put my arm on his shoulder. "Your mom is worried about you. What's wrong?" "I'm okay. It's just...school is hard." "Tell me about it." "It's no big deal." He licked his lips and got the trace of a smile on his face. "Can I?" he asked, bringing his hand to my crotch. When he became certain I was not going to respond, he unzipped me and slid his hand inside. I felt the soft warmth of his fingers rub across my briefs, then close over my balls. "I want to do to you what I used to do to Jake." "This may not be the best time, Austin. Your mom is worried about you." "He used to really like the way I did it." His hand groped my shaft, surveying its length beneath my Hanes. I paused, relishing the pressures that were building. Austin persisted in a high-pitched, raspy voice, "But yours is so much bigger than his. I might not be able to do as good a job." His fingers wormed through the fly and I moaned at the contact of skin on skin. A fever built inside me. Forgotten were his tears of a moment ago. Forgotten were the hassles of the day's work. Forgotten was the weariness I'd brought home from work. I guess he figured out my role was a passive one, because he started to unfasten my pants. In a throaty voice, I asked, "Did you do Jake all the way?" I already anticipated my orgasm. My pants fell to my ankles and he was already under the elastic waist band, tugging downward. He looked up, wide-eyed and smiling, "Um. Yeah." My hands came to rest on his shoulders. "Sometimes I couldn't swallow it all fast enough, but don't worry. Jake taught me to clean it all up." My cock sprang free and he grabbed it immediately. He sat on the edge of the bed and I stood before him, my hands on his shoulders for balance. I looked down to see the cream-colored hair on top of his head gliding closer to my seeping cock. He paused long enough for me to feel his breath on my glans. My body contracted from the exquisite sensation of his soft lips. I knew my quivering and panting provided enough encouragement, so I didn't bother trying to speak. His tongue glided around my glans, and I knew I was inside his mouth when I felt the pressure from the back of his throat and an accompanying gagging. He lifted his head and exclaimed, "It's so big!" One of my hands involuntarily left his shoulder and applied pressure to the back of his head, urging him to return to the task. Eager to please, the boy returned his mouth to my cock, and began sucking me with a greater sense of urgency. He concentrated on taking the first three inches of my cock inside his mouth, using both hands to guide my shaft. As he established a comfortable pace, one hand strayed down to cup my already-snug balls. I fought against the primal urge of driving my cock into his face, but as my orgasm built, I ended up with both hands on the back of his head as my hips took over. I did manage to refrain from making him gag, but from the sound coming from his lips, I could tell he struggled to keep up with me. I cried out as my groin tightened and my semen erupted forcefully into the back of his throat. Austin kept himself firmly in place, and just after my second spurt of seed, I heard him swallow loudly. As I regained some awareness of my thoughts, I looked down. Austin looked up at me with his mouth full of my cock. I gently slid free of his grasping lips, and gazed upon this beautiful child. He was made even more beautiful by the slime around his lips--my slime which he had eagerly accepted. A few drops dangled by long tendrils from his chin. Without looking away from me, he scooped them into his palm. Another fat droplet dangled from my urethra. Austin stuck his tongue out and captured it from below. "God, that was incredible," I started to say. He took my slackening cock back into his mouth and the rush of pleasure cut my sentence short. Again I grabbed his head in my hands and held him. I raised his head, keeping it cradled in my hands. I meant to kiss his beautiful lips, to taste myself upon them, but I forgot that my pants were pooled around my ankles and I ended up flopping onto the bed, his body crushed beneath me. He giggled at my lack of grace, and his lips were still set in a smile when my lips found them. As he returned my open-mouthed kiss, his hand encircled my nearly-flaccid cock. I realized he remained fully dressed. As I opened his jeans I noted his cock was soft. Dipping my hand into his briefs, I shook his noodle and asked, "Didn't you like what just happened?" "Oh, yeah. I'll do that anytime you want." "Why isn't it stiff?" "I dunno. It was all pretty intense. I guess I was too busy to think about getting a boner." "Maybe I can fix that," I said, dropping my face to his crotch. I opened his pants and began licking with slow deliberate strokes of my tongue. His response, a rapid engorgement of his cock, seemed instantaneous. "Wow, I can't believe how good that feels." He held on tight as I sucked in slow pulsing rhythm, using the most suction I could. I didn't even move my lips on his shaft. My tongue head a firm grip on his slender shaft. My lips were pressed against his hairless pubic mound. He began tensing his buttock in anticipation of the rhythm I'd established. When he orgasmed, he cried out. I quickly released him. "What did you do?" he asked in a shaky voice. I became concerned. "Did I hurt you?" "No. That felt better than anything!" He brought both hands to his genitals. "I want to know what you did so I can make you feel that good. I thought you were going to pull my dick right off my body!" Much later, we emerged from the bedroom. Chris met us at the door. "Everything okay?" Austin beamed. "Couldn't possibly be better! But I'm hungry. What's for dinner?" Chris looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "You are quite a miracle worker." My cheeks burned. "Not really." The next night we shopped for a bed and a dresser. I had an extra desk in the basement, and after considerable reshuffling of my possessions, Austin had his own bedroom. After Austin went to bed, Chris lit a joint. "I can't believe you gave him his own room." I turned down the joint. I didn't like scrambling my brains, which was the end result of regular pot use for me. "Why does that surprise you?" "I would have thought you'd want him in your bed." "Chris." "Don't pretend you aren't having sex. I can hear you guys through the walls. and I can smell it. Semen has a unique odor." I didn't respond for a minute. "He wanted his own room. I could give it to him, so I did it. Why is that surprising?" "I guess it surprises me because I hate sleeping alone." "So do I." Austin padded into the living room in his underwear. Every time I saw him in his briefs I felt a tingle in my groin. It didn't matter how often I saw him. There are some forms of beauty that one cannot become immune to. "Aren't you going to sit with me for a while?" he asked in an accusing tone of voice. "I didn't know you wanted me to." I stood. Austin looked at his mother and asked, "If I get scared, is it okay if I sleep in Rick's bed?" "Of course." He took my hand and led me to his new room. "Will you buy me a poster of Michael Jordan?" "Sure." "Will you buy me my own radio with a tape player?" "Sure." "Will you suck me again?" "Austin," I scolded, quickly closing the door behind us. "Well, I wanted to break in my new bed." We broke it in. When I woke up in the morning, Austin was nestled against my side. Austin came home on Tuesday, again saying school sucked. He didn't say much until I came in to kiss him good night and to "sit" with him. When I got up to follow him to his room, Chris said, "I'll see you in the morning, Rick. Have a good night." She winked at me. Once inside his room, Austin stripped off his briefs and hopped on the bed face down. He craned his neck to look at me as I stood over him and unbuttoned my shirt. The supple mounds of flesh looked perfect. "You have the world's most sexy ass." He giggled. "You like my butt?" "I love your butt." "Do you want to put your dick in it?" "What?" I stopped short, my pants at my knees, my erection standing proudly forth. Perhaps due to his nervousness at proposing such a thing to me, he chattered rapidly, "You're so big that I can't believe it would fit, but I've heard guys talk about it so it must be true. One kid I knew in New Mexico said his older brother did it to him sometimes. He said it hurt at first but that he got so he didn't mind it. Especially after they found out about using baby oil. Anyway, he said his brother really loved doing it because it felt the best of anything. Anyway, I've got some baby oil in my school bag. It's on the floor over there. So you can do it. If you want to." "Where did you get the baby oil?" I asked, keeping the conversation alive as I fought with my conscience. The prospect of pressing my cock into his tender virginal hole surpassed any previous erotic thoughts I'd ever had. Still, there was no way I could get him ready for me in a single night. "Chris bought it for me." "Oh, God," I moaned. "She bought some Vaseline, too, but didn't say anything about it. It is better than baby oil?" So Chris had known this was awaiting me tonight. "It's a matter of personal preference. I like Vaseline better myself." He put his hands on his buttocks and pulled his cheeks apart. "I'm ready." I sat down next to him and brought my fingertip to his cleft. A tiny smooth spot indicated where his anus was. "No, you're not ready. I would hurt you badly if I did that to you tonight. If we decide to do this, it will take several days to teach your sphincter to relax." "What's a sphinx?" "Sphincter. It's the tight muscle that holds your butt closed." "Oh." I rubbed my hand up his back. "Let's kiss and hug like always. Except tonight, I'll play with your bottom a little to see if you like it." He rolled over. "I thought you'd want to do it." I rubbed his chest, then tickled my finger around in his navel. "I want to do it, Austin. Making love to you...like that..will be the most wonderful thing in my whole life. Just thinking about it has me so horny, I'm afraid I'll cum before you even touch my cock." At that moment, I did touch his cock. And he did orgasm. I kept a loose grip on his little shaft as I bent to kiss his lips. He wrapped both arms around my neck and held me in place. His breath smelled like mint toothpaste. Later I lay on my back and he climbed over the top of me to suck my cock. As he did this, his erection poked into my chest. I used Vaseline to make his cleft slick, then eased my fingertip inside him. I seized his cock in my other hand. He raised his head, making his lips smack. "It feels good." I pressed forward a little more and felt the vibration on my glans caused by his moan of pain/pleasure. My finger penetrated all the way, and he did not cease sucking my cock. His anus clung tightly to my finger. I began thinking that it would take weeks to loosen him up enough to accommodate my cock. As he continued bobbing his head on my cock, I searched for signs of Austin's prostate gland. Since he was only 10, there was only a small bump where it would eventually blossom. When I pressed against it, he lifted his head. "Do that again," he asked. I did, rubbing my finger all around the area. He pushed his butt back against my invading finger, and I felt his sphincter relax a little. "That feels good!" he exclaimed in surprise. Then he opened his lips to take my glans into his mouth again, working on it with vigor. He squeezed my balls and milked my shaft as he bobbed his head on my slick glans. I began withdrawing my finger completely, then plunging it back inside him. At the end of each thrust, I prodded his prostate. I could see the slightly wrinkled opening, and after a few penetrations, it did not tighten as much. He was dilating much faster than I had dreamed he could. As I felt my juices begin to rise, I poised two fingers at his opening. By applying gently pressure, I got the sphincter to permit entrance of both fingers to the first joint. "Sit on my hand," I suggested. Without stopping his wonderful work on my cock, he slowly eased himself backwards. when the muscle yielded further, I pressed forward, putting both fingers as deeply inside him as possible. He raised off my cock to yelp, but he didn't move away, so I kept my fingers in place. "Just relax, baby," I said soothingly. "You've got a great ass. I love doing this to you Austin. I love you, Austin." "I'm okay," he whispered. "I can't tell if it feels good or hurts." "Then relax and it will feel good." As he resumed sucking me, I began wiggling my two embedded fingers. I teased his erection with my other hand. "I'm cumming," I warned, and only a second later, I erupted sending my seed into his eager mouth. He held on for dear life, swallowing most of my offering. After my orgasm passed, I turned him on the bed so he lay on his back with his legs in the air. I penetrated his ass with one finger while I sucked him off. Half and hour later, I put on my clothes to leave. "When are you going to do it?" "Today's Tuesday. How about Friday night?" I suggested. "How about tomorrow night?" "Friday. I love you." "I love you back." "I love you front," I said in a childish voice. "I love you top," he jested. "And I love you bottom. Especially on Friday night. Go to sleep." "Can I come to your room." I smiled. "Of course." On Wednesday, his sphincter dilated almost immediately, and his butt wiggled around as I fingered him lustily. He orgasmed without me touching his cock. On Thursday when I came home from work, Austin met me at the door. "Chris isn't going to be home all night. She met someone and won't be back until Monday. That means we have the whole weekend completely to ourselves." "Great," I said, bending to hug him. After dinner, he sat in my lap as we watched television. I absently caressed his neck, and before I knew it, my hand was beneath his tee shirt, teasing his nipples and tickling his hairless armpits. "I want to do it tonight," he said. "Do what?" I asked, though I knew full well what he meant. "Go all the way with you." That was a term I hadn't heard since my own school days. "All the way?" I asked, acting dumb. I felt reasonably sure he was ready--at least as ready as he was going to get. I had never wanted to do anything more badly. He took my cheeks in both hands and looked directly into my eyes. You know what I mean." "I guess I do. Let's go to the bedroom." "Why not right here?" he asked. "I was hoping you might sit right here and I'd sit on your lap. It doesn't hurt as much that way." "How do you know...." I put my hand over my eyes. "Oh, God, don't tell me you discussed this with...." "I'll get the Vaseline," he said, scampering off to the bedroom. I just finished undressing when he scampered back into the room. "Wow," he uttered, staring at my raging erection. I took the jar from his hand and tossed it on the couch. I helped him lift his tee shirt off his head. He stripped off the rest of his clothes in a flash. I sat on the couch, pulling him onto my lap once again. Our lips locked, but he didn't really kiss me back. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I'm nervous. The first time is going to hurt like hell anyway," he said, and I could imagine the words coming from Chris's lips exactly as Austin said them. "I just want to get it done." He leaned over and grabbed the Vaseline. He tossed the lid onto the floor and dug his fingers deeply into the cloudy goop. "Do I smear it on your cock or just on my butt?" I was taken aback and didn't know exactly how to respond to his sudden business-like manner. "Both," I said simply. My eyes closed as he rubbed Vaseline the length of my shaft. Then he dug into the jar and gathered another thick wad of jelly. He rubbed it on his crack. I could tell he stuck his finger inside a couple of times. "Let me," I said gently. "No," he said firmly. He lifted himself up and, facing me, tried to make the connection. Placing a hand on my own cock, I helped guide him. I gasped when my glans came into firm contact with his anus. His face contorted and he grunted. The pressure against my cock grew and grew. I was afraid he might break the shaft. After a few seconds of intense pressure, he raised up a little and said, "It won't go in." "Not easily," I said. He gritted his teeth and began applying downward pressure once again. "Push out with your butt like you're trying to force a big turd out." He paused to look skeptically at me for a moment. He must have decided I wasn't kidding because I could see his stomach become more rounded as he grunted and strained. I felt his sphincter give a little and I made minute entrance. He immediately lifted himself and said, "It hurts." "That's okay. We don't have to do this, Austin." With renewed resolve, he pressed his butt against my cock again. His cock hung limply off to one side of his tightly drawn balls. The pressure mounted again, and just when I felt him start to open up, he again lifted himself. He was crying. "You're going to have to help me, Rick." "We need to wait a few days longer," I said soothingly, stroking his hair. "No," he said and with that he jammed himself forcefully upon my shaft. I felt fireworks in my head as an incredible heat and pressure grabbed my cock. Austin held himself in place, his cheeks stained with tears, his eyes clenched tight, and almost two inches of my cock wedged inside his rectum. "Just wait a minute. Give your body a chance to get used to it," I said, afraid he was going to again raise his hips. "I did it!" he exclaimed, his face still contorted with pain. I kissed the tears off his cheeks. He slid a little lower, making me grunt in pure ecstacy. "Does it feel good?" he asked. "Yes," I gasped. He pressed my cock further into his rectum. At about 4 inches, he stopped. "I don't think I can go any deeper." "That's okay," I said. "Maybe you could raise and lower yourself a little." He put his hands on my shoulders and lifted up a little. The strokes were slow and shallow, but I was so aroused I was on the brink of orgasm within the first two minutes. I took his hips and used my hands to increase the length of each stroke. His head flopped off to one side, but it was no longer contorted in pain. He kept his eyes closed as he bounced up and down. "I'm cumming," I cried, and a moment later I pulled him tight against me, my semen discharging in his bowel as I moaned and thrashed like a barnyard animal. Then he was off me and rushing to the bathroom. I followed him. "Are you okay?" I asked. He stared at my slick, drooping cock and farted wetly into the toilet. "I can't believe that I actually did it. It's so huge!" He reached out and grabbed my cock. "Let's do it again." "Wait a while. You may be too sore. Besides, we haven't even eaten dinner yet." "I'm not sore. Didn't you like doing it to me? Did I make you feel good?" "More than you could possibly know. Next time, though, we snuggle and caress and kiss. I want to make love to you because I love you." "I love you back," he said smirking. He tugged on my cock, as if to signal to me how I should respond. Dutifully, I said, "I love you front." "I love you top." "And I love you bottom." "Did you ever," he said with a smile. "What are you making me for dinner?" There was nothing I wouldn't have done for him. The End Author's note: I have many more stories to share if there is an audience...let me know. Also, is there a better place to post this? I never seem to see boy-love fiction in UseNet. Lastly, I'm looking for a pen-pal, preferably outside the U.S.