Date: Tue, 20 Dec 2016 23:30:00 -0700 From: Ocelot Subject: Ashton and Noah Chapter II Ashton and Noah Chapter II Greetings! Welcome to Chapter II of Ashton and Noah's story. Before we begin, let's get the necessary stuff out of the way. This story (maybe not necessarily this chapter) will contain scenes of sex between a minor and adult. If that offends you, you're free to leave. If it's prohibited to read such things because of location/age/whatever you're free to leave. If you're okay with that, keep reading. Nifty needs your help to continue. Feel free to give `til it hurts! Also, your kind words are the only payment us Nifty authors receive. This story is the property of the author, (me), who gives Nifty a license to display the story. This story is not to be displayed on any other website. All rights reserved. In the last chapter we met Ashton Ridgeway, rich and successful author, going to spend a few weeks at his new cabin to relax. We also met Noah, twelve years old, who is paid cash under the table for doing odd jobs at the local grocery store. We also met Mister Fischer (AKA Fish) the store owner who is also the guy who delivers the fish each day. He's a part of the story, (not necessarily this chapter) and not in any sexual way. Let's see what happens next... Teeth rattling, I drove up the so-called driveway to my new cabin. The road was dirt. Full of dips and ruts and not at all good for my sedan. If I stuck with the sedan for visits, I'd need new shocks, and I'd also probably rattle the engine off its mount. I decided to look into a pickup truck. Maybe one with a four wheel drive so if it got muddy, I wouldn't be in too much trouble. I briefly wondered what the hell I was thinking, getting a cabin in the woods, two miles away from a town with one stoplight. I was a city slicker, not some cowboy! Alas, the deal was done. I'd made my bed, time to sleep in it. I sighed with relief when the cabin came into view. I was happy to see that the area surrounding the cabin and leading to the garage had been adorned with a nice cement path. I appreciated the smooth ride. Pulling up to the garage door, I stopped the car, shifted into neutral, and applied the parking brake. I unbuckled my seatbelt, and approached the keypad covered with a weatherproof case. I typed in the code I had chosen, and hit enter, and the garage door began to roll up. I know many cabins don't have garages, but I chose to have a three car garage built in case I needed to store vehicles or equipment out of the weather. I'd rather have the space, and not need it, than need it and not have it. I returned to my car, and pulled into the garage, close to the door leading to kitchen. I switched the car off, and hit the button that popped the trunk. Pausing for a moment, I reflected on meeting that sweet twelve year old, Noah, and the way he had professionally packed my groceries. "You underestimate my power!" I shouted, as I began to fill my hands with the bag handles. I'm sure you've seen that Anakin Skywalker meme about not being able to take all the groceries in all in one trip. That's what was running through my head as I unloaded the car in multiple trips. With the power and gas already on, it was no problem loading the fridge and freezer with my perishables. Selecting a cabinet more or less at random to store the boxed and canned goods, I was rewarded with the sight of plates, bowls, and glasses on the shelves. Not recalling having them (I had gotten paper plates and cups and plastic cutlery at the store), I pulled my phone out, and called my personal assistant Cyrus. After two rings, he picked up. "Hey, boss! Did you make it okay? Or do I have to send search and rescue? They're programmed into my phone's memory! Say the word!" "I'm fine, Cy," I responded. "I made it here okay. Stopped at the store to get supplies, and I find what is possibly a housewarming present from you. Either that, or I inherited the stuff in the cabinet from the old man Wethers." "Oh yeah, that's from me. Everything a new house needs. New kitchen stuff. Stuff to cook with, stuff to eat with, and stuff to eat on! Also, under the sink there's stuff to clean the stuff!" Rolling my eyes at his overuse of the word stuff, I pressed on. "Thanks a million for the new equipment. I should give you a raise, but I know I did that a few years ago. I pay you too much!" I actually didn't pay him enough in my mind, but he wouldn't accept more. "Of course it's been years since a raise. You're a Scrooge, and not just during Christmas time." This might seem insulting to some bosses, but as an easy going person, it was our natural, relaxed banter. "Groovy. Thanks again. Say hey to your lady friend for me, and keep an eye on my house. Just because I'm not around to crack the whip doesn't mean you get to slack off!" "I copy that, boss!" Good heavens, I could practically see him saluting the empty air around him. "Ten-four! Over and out! Happy trails good buddy!" Pressing disconnect, I went through the cabinets, putting items away as I went, and trying to remember where things where. Once I was satisfied I would be okay navigating the kitchen, I picked up my suitcases from the garage entryway where they had been resting since I took them out of the trunk. Though I had seen the interior and exterior via Skype sessions, it didn't really help me remember where things were. I walked through into the dining room, and then on into the great room which is where the front door was located. On the Tony Montana glass coffee table, there was the assortment of remote controls the realtor and contractors had left for me. Garage door, stereo, and ah-hah! The house remote! I picked it up. It had a good weight to it. Since the cabin had been locked up tight since remodeling was finished, I pressed the buttons to open the heavy blinds, and I went around opening some windows to air the place out. I went upstairs with my two suitcases and unpacked in the master bedroom. I opened the suitcases on the king size bed, and filled my closet and dresser drawers. Not all the way full mind you, but enough so I had a decent selection of clothes. I'd need to purchase more if I wanted to stay here for a few weeks. It'd be nice to know I had a clothing supply already at the cabin so I wouldn't have to pack so much. With that done, the hard tasks of arriving were done. Time to rest and relax. To start off with, a visit to the bathroom. Stepping to the toilet, I opened the lid and lifted the seat. Unzipping my jeans, I pulled my soft cock out. Four inches flaccid, six inches erect, and a circumcised head. I had been told by more than a few people that is was thicker than what they were used to. No matter if it was jerking off, having sex, or just taking a nice piss, I liked what I had. Not too big, not too small. Giving it a few shakes (and maybe a few strokes), I tucked it back in, and was washing my hands when I heard the doorbell ring. Wiping my hands dry on the seat of my jeans, I headed down the stairs to see who it was. It couldn't be a neighborhood welcome wagon as nobody could see my property through the thick growth of trees. I opened the door and had to bite my tongue so my jaw wouldn't drop. There, standing on my porch, was the wonderful boy known as Noah! He was breathing hard, and a little sweaty. I saw a bike on a kickstand, and surmised that he had biked from work. He was still dressed the same from the store. "Hey there, Ashton. I wanted to stop by, and see how you were settling in. I also wanted to see if you'd forgotten anything when you went to the store so I can have it ready next time you come in." "Well now, that's a beautiful thing coming from a beautiful boy. Come in, and hang out so I can admire your smile and the way your hair bounces!" Of course, that wasn't said by me aloud. Only in my mind, and I hoped it'd stay there. Instead, I really said "That's excellent customer service, Noah." Smiling, I stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come in, come in. I don't think I forgot anything, but I'd be a poor host if I sent you away without so much as a drink of water." "Thanks, Ashton!" Giving me another of his killer smile, he wiped his feet on the mat before stepping through. "Should I take my shoes off? I never know if I should do that when I go to a new place, so I like to ask." Hmm. He was more considerate of my new carpet than I was. I don't think I'd even checked to see if I was tracking anything in when I unloaded the car. I quickly kicked off my shoes, and they were soon joined by the shoes off Noah's feet. Having paid so much attention to his body and looks the first time we met, I was able to pay attention to his shoes. A little battered. Well, a lot battered. He definitely needed a new pair. Wondering how long he'd had them, I led the way into the kitchen. A quote from "The Shawshank Redemption" flashed through my mind. How often do we look at a man's shoes? Wondering how long he'd had them, and if there was a problem with getting a new pair, I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade and handed it to him. His soft fingers grazed mine as he took the bottle. My stomach did a little flip at the brief contact. "You're not going to drink anything?" he queried. "I am, but just some water for me. I've had plenty of other drinks during my two day drive here." I unscrewed the cap, and took a few sips. "Are you settling in okay?" he asked. Geeze, who was the guest, and who was the host? It was his town, but this was my cabin. I felt like he was smart enough to keep me on my toes and make me feel off center. I decided to answer his question. "I'm settling in nicely. I've unpacked, and I was about to take an inspection tour. You can join me if you'd like." "I'd like that, Ashton. People might want to know that you're taking good care of the place. It was abandoned for quite a while before you picked up the place." Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he set down his Gatorade. "Well, come on then. Let's see if they got everything right. It looked good in the Skype sessions, but real life is something different. Bottom's up!" Noah looked puzzled because neither he nor I had a drink ready. Even his face was adorable. Smiling at his confusion, I explained. "I meant let's start our tour in the basement and work our way up." "Oh, okay. Makes sense," he said. "I'll follow you." "Stairs are this way." I indicated the direction and led him down the stairs. "This is a big stairway, isn't it?" He said, his voice echoing off the walls. It sounded like beautiful music. "It is big, but then again, I needed it big. It makes things easier to move things up and down the stairs. I'll show you. One thing that necessitated the large stairway was this!" With a sweeping gesture, I ushered him into the rec room. His stunned glance was worth the time, effort, and money I had in having a pool table installed. Fresh green felt, multiple pool cues of various sizes, and plenty of balls. "Wow! This is yours?" Exclamation made his voice sound even sweeter. He reached out and touched the smooth dark wood of the table, and ran his fingers along the felt. "It's awesome," he said, almost in awe. "I haven't met anyone who had a pool table in their house. The ones at the arcade in the big town aren't nearly so nice." "Thanks, Noah." I had an idea. "Do you need to go home anytime soon? We can play a quick game if you've got the time." His face lightened up. "Yeah, I've got some time. I don't need to be anywhere anytime soon." "Okay, cool. Get some wood!" I said cheerily. He blushed. I blushed. Without thinking, I had used the juvenile term my friends and I had used when we racked up the balls at home. I shrugged and smiled at him. "Sorry. I meant grab a pool cue." Winking, as if to say "Sure you did," Noah grabbed a pool cue from the rack while I set up the balls. Since I'd done it hundreds of times at home before, I didn't need to concentrate much on my efforts. "Since you're the guest, you can have the pleasure of breaking. I choose stripes or solids if you sink both. No need to call your shots until it's time to sink the eight ball. Sink it before you've cleared your set of balls, one of the balls you've already sunk is placed on the table. Same if you scratch. Clear?" Noah nodded as he stepped up to the table, and took careful aim. Bending slightly over the table, I admired the shape of his butt as he carefully took his shot. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, he would have a nice bubble butt under his pants and underwear. His work shirt had become a little untucked, and now it wasn't sitting as nicely as it was when I was at the store. I didn't mind. It was time to relax and have a good time. The balls clattered as they rolled around on the table and struck each other. A solid ball rolled into a corner pocket. Noah looked at me. Indicating he should continue, I leaned against the wall. He took aim, and struck the cue ball. He sunk another ball. Again, he took aim, and again he sunk a wall. After the fourth ball was sunk, I pushed myself off the wall. "Woah! News flash! Kid hustles Ashton Ridgeway in a game of pool!" Without bothering to look at me, Noah said "I'm not a kid. I'm twelve years old, and I'll be thirteen eventually." His shot had a ball close to rolling in, but not quite enough to sink it. It was finally my turn. "So," he said, looking at me as I circled the pool table looking for a shot, "how good are you at pool? You install a pool table in your house, you should be good." I took aim, and missed. I'd been busy listening to his sweet voice rather than focusing on my shot. "Not very good, I'm afraid. Just good enough to enjoy playing it by myself," I said as I took up my spot against the wall. "I'll take it easy on you the next time we play, Ashton. Well, that is, if we play another game." Leaning over the table, he began to take aim. His shirt rode up again, further than before. "Yeah, I guess we can play again. Tomorrow's Sunday, so it might be a good time." Admiring his shapely backside again, I felt my heart freeze and a lump form in my throat. Noah was bending over the table further than he ever had in the game so far. His shirt had ridden up to the point where it exposed his lower back. That wasn't the only thing exposed. There were some long and straight bruises exposed as well. "Noah!" His shot was off, and cue ball rolled into the side pocket. I stepped forward and lifted his shirt a little more. "What happened? Is someone deliberately hurting you?" He stepped away from me, tugging his shirt down. "No, nothing wrong is happening. I was a bit of a klutz and fell down some stairs." He kept pulling down his shirt, as if by hiding the bruises, he could erase my memory of them. "Fell down some stairs? That excuse is older than the hills. You fell down some stairs, and didn't hurt your hands or wrists breaking your fall? Quite the clumsy act." I wasn't trying to be mean or anything, but it really got me wound up when people beat up on kids. "Shut up! You don't know nothing! Don't talk to me again!" whirling on his heels, he ran out of the room, and dashed up the stairs. Dropping my pool cue, I went after him. "Noah!" I shouted. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-." I had burst outside, but Noah and his bike were gone. No way of telling which way he had gone. While it wasn't a nice bike, it was enough to handle the rough terrain. He could have gone down the driveway, or taken any one of a number of ways through the woods, blazing his own trail. Making my way back inside, I noticed that he didn't even stop to get his shoes on. Somewhere out there, he was pedaling in just his socks. I bent down and straightened our shoes so they lined up against the wall. If he came back to get them, I wanted it to be brief. Shutting the windows, and pressing the button on the house remote to shut all the curtains, I double checked to make sure the doors were locked, and then went upstairs. I was disappointed and guilty about what had happened. I went into the bathroom, and took a sleeping pill. It was only seven o'clock, but passing time unconscious seemed like a good idea. I took off my pants and shirt, and stood there in my boxer briefs. I brushed my teeth, and then went into my bedroom. Not remembering if the lights were off downstairs, and really not caring, I got into bed. I pulled the covers over my head and closed my eyes. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten my favorite hoody. It was crumpled on my bed at home. It was always comforting to wear and hide under the hood when things weren't going right. It was nice to spend time with Noah. He was friendly and talkative. It didn't hurt that he was so beautifully cute with his long blonde hair, and twinkling blue eyes. I'd always admired people with hair like his. So light and so beautiful in the sunshine. My own hair was black, and styled like Leon Kennedy's from Resident Evil. Ever since I was a kid, I'd wanted lighter hair. I'd attempted to dye it, but it had never worked out well. . . . Humming the tune of The Anvil Chorus from "Il Trovatore", I swung the ax in tune with the song. I was chopping down a dead tree and I intended to use it was firewood. The ax made a solid knocking sound as it made impact with the trunk. Pausing to assess my progress, I saw I had a little more to chop through. Picking up the ax again, I was about to start swinging when I heard that knocking sound again, and this time a voice along with it. Pausing to listen, I heard it again. "Hey, Mister Ridgeway! It's Noah! I'm sorry! I need help. Wake up, Ashton! Answer the door." Only the sweet voice of Noah, now tinged with panic and hurt could have snapped me into reality. I heard the pounding of his fist on the door. His voice emanated from the intercom on the wall. However, the chemical residue was still making my mind foggy. I attempted to get off the bed and walk over to the intercom, but the blankets were tangled and I stumbled to the wall, kicking them off me as I went. With my voice thick with sleep, I finally answered Noah's anxious pages. "I'm coming, just a minute." The poundings continued. "Hurry Ashton! Hurry!" he cried. Hopping along on one foot, and then the other, bouncing off the walls, I pulled on my jeans one leg at a time. Getting a secure grip on the bannister in case I slipped, I made my way downstairs. Stopping at the alarm pad to disarm it, I continued to the front door and opened it. There was Noah. Lightning flashed, and illuminated him. He looked to be in sad shape. He was soaked through. Water was streaming from his clothes and hair. His clothes were torn and muddy. Through a hole in his shirtsleeve, I could see a fresh bruise. No doubt he had "fallen down some stairs", and for some reason had come to me hours after he had stormed out. Pushing past me, Noah entered. I shut the door and locked it. With him dripping on the tiled entryway, I looked at him for an explanation. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, and starting crying. Seconds later, he had thrown his arms around me, and was crying into my chest. "Let's get you warmed up. You're chilled to the bone. A shower will help. Maybe some hot comfort food afterwards," I said, as I tried to analyze the situation. Not being able to vocalize a response, he nodded. Not wanting him to track mud all over my new carpet, I gently picked him up, and carried him to the master bathroom. Setting him down on the sink, I tried to extricate myself from his limbs. He squeezed me close to him. A tiny part of me appreciated the close contact, but I knew it was more important to warm him up. He was shivering pretty badly. I'd forgotten that in these higher altitudes, winter was slow to leave. "It's okay, Noah. I'm just going to turn on the shower, and get you in there. You also have to take those wet and muddy clothes off. They're not helping." Voice breaking, he said "Don't leave me all alone." He pulled back from my chest, looked at me, and said in a tiny voice "please". Looking into his eyes, I could see things. Hope, distress, and above all, genuine fear. I knew I couldn't leave him alone. "Okay. I'll stay with you. I just need to turn on the shower. You can take your clothes off." When I was released, I turned and stepped over to the shower. I turned it on, and set it to a cool temperature. I turned around, and Noah was shucking off his pants and underwear. His ball sack was drawn tight against his body, keeping the precious testicles warm. His dick was similarly shriveled, and doing what it could to keep warm. Taking him by the hand, I led him to the shower and opened the door. "Shower with me. I don't want to be alone!" he cried. Such a conundrum. Did I want to shower naked with Noah? Absolutely; he was so beautiful and adorable, I wanted to smother him with kisses. Did I know the repercussions of such an act? Of course I did. But a bigger part of me wanted to take care of Noah. I'd always had a soft spot for people who were hurt, or couldn't take care of themselves. Mentally kissing my career goodbye, I said "Okay. I'll be with you. But I'd like to say I was responsible and I'll shower in my underwear. Is that okay?" Nodding, Noah stepped into the shower. I pushed down my jeans, and stepped into the shower with just my boxer briefs on. Stepping under the cascade of water, I pulled Noah to me. "It's cold!" he said, as he buried his head in my chest again. "It's because if we started the shower on hot, it would be a shock to your system. I'll increase the temperature as you warm up." Pulling tightly against me, I gently wrapped my arms around him, and rotated a bit so I could reach the shower knobs. I was glad for the cold water. My cock was soft and probably withdrawn itself. I didn't want to explain how much thoughts of him aroused me. About every minute, I reached out, and adjusted the temperature to a warmer setting. Soon, Noah stopped shivering, but he didn't release me. As the shower got warmer, my cock slowly started to become hard. What cock doesn't enjoy intimate contact in the shower? I was glad I had the presence of mind to keep my underwear on. Though there was a bulge, I had no way of knowing how Noah would have taken an erect cock pressing against him in the shower. "You're hard, and pressing against me." Noah's voice was muffled as he was still pressing against my chest. "Yeah...sorry. It's got a mind of its own. It won't hurt you." Laughing, Noah looked up at me and said "It's the age of the Internet, Ashton. I know what a dick is. I find it funny because mine is hard too." Bold as brass, Noah stepped back, and displayed his erect cock. It was about four inches in length. Water dripped from the uncircumcised head. He took it in hand. He gave it a few strokes. I felt my own erect dick twitch. "I've noticed it getting harder more often recently." He said this as he touched his ball sack. Again, my cock twitched. "You're at that age where that and many other changes will happen," I said, shutting off the shower. Noah seemed much warmer, and I had decided it was time to dry off, and get some food into him. I decided I could also use something to eat. Grabbing a towel off the rack, I handed it to him. He began rubbing his chest and arms, drying himself off. Now that I wasn't so focused on warming him up, I could see bruises. Some of them were new and some of them were old and fading. My stomach dropping in how he'd been treated, I grabbed a towel for myself. I wrapped it around my waist, and with a bit of difficulty, I was able to peel my underwear off. "I've seen dicks before on the Internet. You can be naked too, if you want." "I wish. I'd get into lots of trouble if I got naked with you. I could probably be in lots of trouble just by being in the shower with you." I responded, leading the way to the bedroom. The clothes could be dealt with later. "It's okay, Ashton. I wouldn't tell anyone. As a stranger, you've shown more care and respect for me than my own father has. He's the one that gives me the bruises. He used to be a big time football player in high school. He'll tell anyone about his five interceptions in one game that snapped the school's ten year losing streak against its rival. My mom died in childbirth. I was...a difficult pregnancy and birth. He had to stop playing football to `take care of me'" He made air quotes as he said that. "Beating your child is not taking care of them in any way, shape, or form," I said, settling him on the bed, and entering the closet. "I don't have any clothes your size, but I do have shorts with a drawstring so you can tie them. They'll be big, but cinch them tight, and you won't have them falling down. Here's a shirt as well. It'll be big on you, but no matter. It's not long enough to make you trip." I placed the shorts and shirt on the bed next to him and disappeared into the closet again. Now that he'd opened up to me, Noah seemed more talkative, and it was like a dam had broken. He kept talking. "He never gets into trouble because the Sheriff is a close football buddy of his. Good enough for high school, but not enough for college. Since our town straddles two county lines, neither of the county seats will come help me. Bureaucratic bullshit in my opinion!" Dressing in the closet, I pulled on a t-shirt, and sweatpants. I entered the bedroom where Noah had pulled on his shirt, and was tying the shorts up so they wouldn't fall down. Taking him by the hand, I led him downstairs to the kitchen. "I'm sorry the authorities won't help you, but I'll do what I can for you. You seem like you could use a few good meals. Maybe several." I said, opening the fridge and taking out the butter and processed cheese slices from the store. Noah was perched on a stool at the kitchen island. "I try to eat what I can. Dad goes through my belongings and takes what money he finds and drinks. He blames me for his bad fortune. Fish has a cot for me in the store's back room if I can get out of the house when the drinking is bad. He lives with his mother and some adult kids. Otherwise I'd live with Fish. It was awful tonight for some reason. He damaged my bike, and you were the closest person I could think of. Five miles away through the cold pouring rain and slipping in mud. I'm glad you took me in." Coming over to me, where I was buttering some bread, he asked in that sweet voice of his "What are you making? Can I help?" Happy to keep him busy and his mind off matters, I said "Yeah. Butter eight slices of bread, and leave them on this cutting board here. I'll heat up some tomato soup to go with the sandwiches." His soft and gentle fingers took the knife from my outstretched hand, and he went to work, carefully buttering each slice of bread. I went to a cabinet, and took out a griddle. Plugging it in, so it could heat up, I asked, in what I hoped was a casual tone of voice. "If you had the chance to leave him forever, would you?" "In a heartbeat," he replied, placing the butter back in the fridge. Smiling, I opened the two cans of Progresso tomato soup. No need to add water. Heat and eat. Simple. "Get the medium sauce pan, in that cabinet, would you?" I asked. Soon, we had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. "Thanks a lot Ashton, I feel much better." Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he took his dishes to the sink. When his back was turned, I pulled out my phone and texted Cyrus. I told him what I wanted, and when. Minutes later, I got a response back. He said that he was up, and following instructions. "Who were you talking to?" Noah asked. He had come up alongside me, and had his arm draped around my shoulders. "Cyrus, my personal assistant. I assigned him to do some important tasks for me." "I know what might come next. I don't want to go back home tonight. The drinking and beatings were real bad tonight. I left when he fell asleep on the toilet." His voice got scared and small when he said this. "I was actually going to ask if you wanted to spend the rest of the night here." "Could I?" Noah's voice was excited, and sounded happy. "Yeah, I've got plenty of room. You can pick a couch, or a guest bedroom. You're welcome to any of them." "I pick your bed!" Noah said this without hesitation. "That's..." my protest died unspoken. His blue eyes were shining bright with tears and fear again. "I don't want to be by myself. Pease, Ashton. Don't make me sleep by myself." Internally weeping for Noah's plight, I nodded and embraced him because he looked like he could use a hug. "Okay. Tonight, you can sleep in my bed. There's plenty of room." "Thanks" he said, his voice small, but sounding better. Making sure the lights were off, we went upstairs. The clothes in the bathroom still needed to be taken care of, but I didn't care. There were more important matters to attend to. Primarily, taking care of a twelve year old who needed some help right now. Getting the blanket settled properly on the bed, Noah got in while I turned off the light. I got in beside him. My cock twitched, happy to be so close to him. My mind was happy as well. We may have had a bad spot when playing pool, but at least he was back. Settling under the covers, I stared at the ceiling, wondering what would happen to Noah if I was unable to help him get out of his living situation. Noah snuggled against me, and I wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. I wanted him to feel safe, loved, and warm. Now, and forever. Well, there's part II. No hot and steamy sex, but, I admit, I got aroused writing about them in the shower. I promise, there will be naked time in chapter III. Questions? Comments? Smart remarks? Waffle recipes? Feel free to send correspondence to fullmetalocelot12@gmail.com