Date: Fri, 16 Dec 2016 13:32:38 -0700 From: fullmetalocelot12@gmail.com Subject: Ashton and Noah Part I First off, a few things you should be aware of. 1) This is my first story for Nifty. I, the author of this story give Nifty all rights, privileges etc for the storing of story on their servers. All rights reserved. This story may not be displayed on any other website. 2) I know there are a lot of stories that are good for quick orgasms. This is not one of them. In this chapter, we meet our two main characters. This story is intended to unfold over several chapters. There will be sex, feel free to jerk yourself or finger yourself to orgasm. Whatever you do, enjoy yourself. 3) If the content or even idea of sex offends you, or you're a minor or it's against your religion, stop reading. If you're going to continue, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story. At the end of the story will be my contact information. The best part of being a bestselling author? Making your own schedule. Some days I slept until noon and wrote and edited until late into the night. Other days when a good idea was in my head, I'd get up at seven AM, and write and edit for several hours, forgetting to eat or drink. Another good part? Money. I had purchased a rather large estate in a wooded forest back east. I had just gotten word a few weeks ago that everything had been remodeled to my designs. As I had just finished up my latest book tour, I decided that it was a sign I should go unwind for a few weeks. I packed the essentials. Cell phone charger, clothes, laptop, laptop charger, and some snacks for the road. If I'd forgotten anything, I could pick it up later. You may think that I'd be tired of travelling, but this was for me. Not for my fans, or the conventions I'd attended, or the thousands of books I'd signed. It was time to relax. Dropping my bags into trunk of my car, I locked up the house and set the alarm. I started the car, and set the radio to a favorite station of mine. Classical music poured out of the speakers. Classical? Yes, classical music. It may be boring to many people, perhaps yourself as well, but to me, it was relaxing. Not to the point of falling asleep relaxing, but enough to help wash away the stress and pressure I'd been under in the past few months. Rolling down the highway, it was relaxing. Humming along with the music, I flicked on the wipers as it began to rain. After a moment, I flicked on the headlights as well for a safety measure. After a few hours, it was close to dark. Not really caring about standards, I pulled off at a random highway motel. Pulling into a space in front of the office, I got out, stretched, and brushed any crumbs from my shirt. Crackers may taste good, but they're not so good for being mess free. Patting my pants pocket to make sure I had my wallet, I hit the button on the key fob to lock the doors and ambled into the office. I surrendered my debit card and driver's license for a few moments, and was rewarded with a room. Nothing of consequence happened during the night. I arrived at the small town two miles away from my new digs. I knew there would be no food when I arrived, so I stopped at the small grocery store first. The lot was virtually empty, so I was able to get a spot right by the doors. I could see an employee sweeping the sidewalks a little distance away. They had their back to me, and with their blonde hair hanging to their shoulders, I couldn't identify the gender either. Locking the car, I entered the store and grabbed a cart. Walking the aisles, I was able to see that though it wasn't busy, the employees made sure to keep the shelves organized, and the store clean. Not knowing the layout, I started on aisle one, and decided to go down every aisle and grab what I needed before getting perishables like milk or meat. The aisle I started on was full of toiletries. Soaps, body washes, shampoos, and the like. Grabbing familiar brands, I moved onto the next aisle. It wasn't until I was browsing the produce section that I ran into the employee again. It could only be the same one. Same blonde hair, same small frame. "Hi, looking for anything in particular, sir?" he queried. "Not really, just stocking up on everything?" I responded, eyeing his small frame, and judging his age to be no more than twelve. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at me. Clearly he was taking me in as much as I was taking him in. "Everything? Did someone steal all your food?" he asked me with a grin and a wink. Flirting? I'm not sure. Maybe he was friendly. After all, there are many books about friendly people in small towns. I should know. I've written a book or two about them. Bagging the potatoes I was looking at, I decided to keep it neutral, but on the warm side. "No, I'm new to town. I purchased the big cabin east of town. It belonged to someone named..." I faltered as I couldn't remember the name of the previous owner. Heck, I couldn't even remember the reason why it was up for sale. "Old man Wethers. He got too old and had dementia. His kids stuck him in a home. People think that it was really to get to his money. He had plenty of it. He owned a logging company decades ago, and then the industry got stricter in regulations. Rather than bow down to the almighty government, he sold the company and made a mint." Wow. Not only was he talkative and smart about the business of others, but he had a nice cadence to his voice, and a soft pleasing voice. I easily could have listened to him for hours. Mentally slapping my face, I wondered what I was thinking. He was just a kid. I was here to relax, and have some alone time! "Yeah. That place. It's mine, and I've had it remodeled and I decided I'd spend some time there. Make sure everything is in order. First though, I needed some food." I pushed my car to examine the onions, hoping that would be the end of it, yet also hoping he'd follow me and continue talking with that sweet voice of his. "I hope it's a nice place for you." He HAD followed me. I wasn't sure if he was just being polite because he was an employee, or if he wanted to see what the place looked like now. He had the adorable ruffian aura about him. Rather like an American Oliver Twist. I picked out two different types of onions and bagged them separately. "If I may ask, why'd you get different onion types? People here usually buy one type or the other." Smiling internally at how sweet his voice sounded, I turned to him. "These are sweet onions," I said, holding up the bag. "They're ideal for meals cooked in a crock pot. Whereas these others are more ideal for frying in a pan with some ground beef." Placing the onions in my cart, I realized I didn't know where the meat department was located. If wanted meat in my crock pot, or frying pan, I'd need directions. Here was an opportunity to use his name, and see how it felt in my mouth. With a quick glimpse at his name tag, I said "Where is the meat department, Noah? It's my final stop before checking out." Smiling, he turned and said "Follow me". Obediently, I followed him, admiring his graceful posture, and nearly smooth style of walking. He had a bit of a limp or something, and his right foot wasn't keeping quite in time with his left. Regardless, I didn't query him about it, as I didn't want to embarrass the lad. Guiding me to the meat counter, he looked around, and saw that it was deserted. Shaking his head, he looked at me with an apologetic look, and stepped behind the counter. Though he could barely see over it, he moved as if he had been behind there many times. "Mike is probably on the truck dock, having a smoke. He likes to sneak off because we're so slow. Anyway, what can I get you, sir?" "Well," I said with a grin at how professional he looked, "I'd like some pork chops please. Say, half a dozen." I pointed at the ones I was referring to. "Also, I'm sure you have to do the polite thing and use manners because the store requires it, but call me Ashton. Sir makes me feel so old. I'm not quite in my mid-thirties, and I assure you, I feel quite young." Wrapping up my chops, he asked me "How'd you be able to afford a place like old man Wethers's? Most people your age around here still live with their mommas if they aren't married." Placing the price sticker on my meat, (no pun intended) he handed it over to me. Well now. This was a question. Should I admit who I was, and risk rabid fans seeking me out in my new sanctuary? Should I lie and say I was a stock market person? Not knowing the difference between an option and a bond, I opted for the truth. "I'm an author," I said, looking at the ground beef. "May I have five one pound packages of the ground beef, please?" "Sure," he said, with that killer grin of his. I was liking this kid Noah more and more. "Anything I might have read?" Belatedly, I realized I hadn't even given my name yet. I decided to correct that in a hurry. "I'm Ashton Ridgeway. I write the Thomas Halberd novels." I had no idea if there was library or even a bookstore in this small town. Indeed, I had no idea if my books had even made it to a small town like this. "Oh! They're awesome! On my breaks, I check out the book section and read them. We have everyone you've written! We're the only place to get books in town, and so we do a decent business in your books." Handing me the ground beef, he tilted his head, and asked me "Do you mind if I call the store manager over here? He'd like to know that an author stopped by." Shrugging, I said "Sure. I'm done here at the counter. I'm moving down to the steaks and such." "Okay, one sec!" As I was selecting some steaks and sliced lunch meats, I head his angelic voice over the speaker "Fish to the meat department, Fish to the meat department." I nearly lost it at that. I didn't know if it was a pun, or if Fish was the manager's actual name. Either way, I thought it was funny. Moments later, a tall brawny guy came over, led by Noah. I extended my hand. "Hey there. I'm Ashton Ridgeway." He extended his hand and shook mine. "Pleasure. I'm Mister Fischer, but I get called Fish because I bring in the fish to the store. I'm also the store owner, so I'm pretty busy mornings. Noah tells me you're about done with your shopping. While your items are rung up, I was wondering if you'd be willing to sign the books we have on the shelves. Your items would be on the house as repayment." I'd normally sign my books for free, if a store manager asked, but considering how much I'd bought, I decided a bit of bartering was in order. Shaking his hand to seal the deal, I allowed Noah to take my cart to the front, and myself to be led to the book section. It wasn't huge by any standards, but they had my books there, so I agreed to sign them. After signing them, and even posing for a few photographs (I swear I'm going to go blind with all the flashbulbs I'm exposed to) Noah pushed my cart out to my car. Normally, I don't accept help out, but when he asked, Noah flashed me his million dollar grin, and I couldn't say no. When I was signing books, Fish had told me that Noah came from a broken home, and that he was jack of all trades around the store. Noah helped out with miscellaneous tasks, and was paid cash under the table so he could buy food to survive. I also got the impression that his father took what money he could, and drank it away. Mentally shaking my head to get it focused, I directed Noah to load my groceries in the trunk. He was able to stuff them in there pretty well. After shutting the trunk, and making sure it was secure, I turned to him. "Thanks for the assist. Old men like me aren't as strong as young people like you." I said this with a grin, so he knew I was joking." Grinning again, he said "I'll make sure the pharmacy has a walker for you next time so you don't have to hold onto your cart all the time." This kid was all right. "Well, I should go before my frozen stuff melts too much. I'll see you around, eh?" I didn't want to seem like some old pervert, so instead of hugging him like I wanted, I settled for shaking his hand. It was soft and warm. Just perfect. He saw that I pressed a few dollars into his hand, like I did when I greeted bouncers at nightclubs. "There's no need to tip me, I was just doing my job." Noah protested. "Where I come from, we tip for good service, regardless if it's their job or not. You've helped me a lot. I've made a friend, you helped me where things were in your store, and you got everything loaded better than I ever could." It was true. While I'm excellent at writing books, I haven't the faintest idea how to properly load groceries in the trunk. I just knew bread and eggs on top. He began to roll the cart back into the store. "See ya later Ashton!" he called over his shoulder, blonde hair swinging and reflecting sunlight. "Have a great day, Noah!" I called, waving. I got into my car, and started it up. The radio was off. I'd tried to get a radio station, but apparently the surrounding mountains blocked the signals. In cases like these, I'd use my phone for music, but I needed it for the GPS. I'd never actually been to my new cabin. I had used Skype with the realtor and builders. Checking out Noah's departing figure in my rearview mirror, I realized that my first friend was a twelve year old kid. Didn't matter to me, really. Friends are friends. Shifting into first, I got my phone settled in the dashboard cradle. With Siri directing me to my new place, I pondered what the future would hold for me here. Well, that's the end of chapter I. I hoped you liked the introduction to our characters. I know hot sex scenes didn't happen in this chapter, but something may happen next chapter. I have the outline, but need to flesh it out. Like I said, this is going to happen over several chapters, so hang in there. Questions? Comments? Smart remarks? Feel free to email me at: fullmetalocelot12@gmail.com I can't promise I'll respond to everything, but I'll do my best.