Date: Fri, 25 Oct 2019 00:09:03 +0000 From: JD in SFO Subject: Ben and Nick Part 10: Bill and David Thank you, Gentle Reader, for opening this story, a series about a man who loves boys and the boys he loves. Ben, Nick, and the rest of the cast of characters are fictional, and do not represent any person living or dead. The story is fantasy and exists in that realm, for letting the events unfold in real time and in real life would land our hero Ben in a whole heap of trouble. So, for the purposes of keeping our noses clean, gentlemen, let's keep things unreal. Elements in this story include sex between adults and minors, some racier elements might include watersports, gainer/encourager dynamics, and groups, but for the most part just good old-fashioned cocksucking and fucking. This story definitely falls into the category of Gay/ Adult-Youth. If you enjoy this story, and others like it, please consider making a donation to keep the Nifty archive free and accessible! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html In the last chapter, we learned about Bill's beginnings and what made him who we know him to be. When last we left him, he was returning stateside to his wife and their son. We know how that marriage will turn out, and we know what develops between Bill and his boy, but let's explore a bit more about Bill's experiences until he and Sean develop their bond. Ben the Boylover and his Neighbor Nick Part 10: Interlude - More about Bill The day I held my boy in my arms for the first time goes down as one of the best in my life. I arrived at the base after more than 24 hours of flights and waiting. I knew Cheryl wouldn't be there waiting for me with our boy at home, and it wasn't like we'd had a very warm relationship in the past couple of years. I had arranged for a ride from the one person I knew would have my back, my old college buddy, Ben. He was standing beside his pickup, hands in his pockets, as I came through the gate. I tossed my duffel in the bed of the truck, and he came up and gave me a big hug. "I'm so glad you made it back, buddy!" He said with real emotion. "Not half as glad as I am," I admitted. We chatted a bit, really just catching up on the hour-long drive from Travis AFB back to my place in Walnut Creek. I was excited to see my son. As we pulled into the driveway, Ben said "I know you are going to invite me in, because you're a good guy, but I also know you want to see your boy and spend time with your family, so I'll save you the work, and just drop you off. Cheryl will be glad, `cause she doesn't like me, anyway," he laughed. "You are a good friend. There's going to be a welcome back cookout sometime in the next couple of weekends. I hope you'll come along to that and meet my boy," I offered. "I can't wait to. Bet he's going to be a great man like his daddy," Ben stroked my ego. "I'm real proud of you for going over there, and look forward to hearing your war stories real soon." We hugged again, and then I took my duffle and went up to the front door and let myself in. I turned and waved and saw Ben backing out. Cheryl's parents were there, and everyone stood up and seemed happy to see me. It was a pleasant enough homecoming. Cheryl's kiss was cool. Her dad's handshake was anemic. But I overlooked it all, walking straight to my mother-in-law and the bundle of joy she held in her arms. "May I?" I asked, reaching out my hands. I felt all the pride in the world, looking into my boy's beautiful eyes, seeing his inquisitive face. I had been so nervous to meet him: would he like me? What if he started crying? What if I scared him? None of that happened. He burbled and cooed and reached his little hand up to my face when I got close to him. I had missed the entire pregnancy and his first thirteen months. I vowed never to miss another birthday again. My boy, my pride, my life. Reëntry into civilian life was rough. Cheryl and her father had been clear enough within hours of my being home that it was time to be home, get a good job, allow Cheryl to live the life she wanted. My best friend, Ben, lent me the start-up capital I needed to begin a business. My degree in criminal justice and forensics plus my two tours led me to start a service doing personal security and investigation. In my first year I was able to make enough to hire additional staff and pay Ben back for his investment. With so many start-ups and money in technology, security consulting was abundant and well-paid in the Bay Area. I wasn't rolling in money, as most of what we made went back into the company to grow it. There was potential, but it was going to take some years to really get the operation big enough that it would be lucrative. Sean was the apple of my eye, and I spent all my time at home with him. He clung to me when I would hold him, and it bothered the shit out of Cheryl. She'd say little digging comments like how she'd borne him, carried him, been there when he was born and I was gone. We argued about it, as if it had been possible for me to have been there. She held it against me, and we fought all the time. When Sean was 14 months he said his first word, "Papa." It was so clear, it couldn't have been anything else. She cussed, slammed down her glass, stormed out of the room. I couldn't have been more proud. It continued like that for another year and a half until one day I came home from a long day and night, it was almost dawn, and we'd been on an investigation. The lights were on when I pulled in the driveway, and I hoped things were alright. She was standing in the kitchen, an angry look on her face. I asked what was wrong. She turned to face me. "I'm done. I am leaving you," she announced. "What? What have I done? We have a child, you can't just leave," I tried to reason. "That ungrateful little shit worships the ground you walk on!" She spat. "He's not ungrateful. He's three years old. He doesn't know enough to be grateful or ungrateful. He loves everyone," I couldn't believe she could be so cold. It's not like Sean was an adult, making rational decisions. "Ever since you returned, it's been the Bill show. What about me?" She whined. I didn't want it to go down like this, so I made an attempt to save things. "Babe," I said, approaching her to hold her, "I've been working hard at getting the company up and running, I know that. I know we haven't spent much alone time together. I can be better, we can take a vacation, just the two of us." "All our friends have moved. Steve and Diane just built their own house up in Orinda; Ken and Sal just bought a second home in Tahoe; and here we sit, in the house we've always had, driving the cars we've always had. Jen and Chloe went with their husbands to Bali, and invited us, but you didn't want to spend the money or leave your job," she complained. "All our friends have nannies for their kids. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to call my mom if I want to go to lunch with the girls, or if I have to leave early from a party because Sean needs to be put down for his nap? Everyone else is moving around us, and I am tired of standing still!" She wailed. "We can take some trips, I just hired a great investigator who can take over some of the work I've been doing," I was trying to salvage this. "What will it take? Do you want to get a nanny?" I really didn't want a nanny, I didn't want a stranger raising my boy, but I didn't know what to do. "I want to leave you. I want to leave this house. You can keep your son, he can be your burden." I had no idea she could be so cold. "Sean is not a burden. He's a boy. He is a part of us!" I insisted. "Sean is your problem now." I looked down the hallway and saw her bags. "Where are you going to go?" "I am going to my parents' house tonight, and then I will get a new house. Daddy is going to get me a place of my own." I was angry, but, as time slowed down, and I took a rational look at the situation, I realized that I wasn't angry at her leaving, I was angry about the way she talked about our son, my boy. I took a deep breath. "Let me help you bring your bags to your car." And I walked to the front door, picked up her bags and entered the garage. I went to her Volvo SUV to begin loading her bags. She stood in the doorway, waiting, and then brushed by me. "What should I tell Sean when he wakes up? How do you want us to explain this to him?" "Like I said before, Bill. Sean is your problem now." And she put up the garage door, climbed in, and backed out. That was the end of my marriage, and the beginning of my bachelor life with my son. I did hire a nanny. There was no way I could do this on my own. But I left work at 5, and was home for dinner every night with Sean, and every morning I was there to have breakfast, and every weekend I was there to hang out. He would know love, and not the care of a stranger. Things settled into a rhythm, and my business kept growing. I was out in the yard one Saturday. The summer that Sean turned nine he was running around the way kids do. I was picking up branches and raking leaves, and Seanny was running through my piles. I was by the edge of my yard, when all of a sudden I felt a thud in the middle of my back. As I spun around, I saw a ball at my feet, and heard the footsteps of someone running. Through the bushes I spied my assailant, a kid with jet black hair and icy blue eyes, shirtless and breathless. He couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. His lanky body had that awkward just pubescent look to it. "Oh, shi....oot! I sure am sorry, mister. I was playing catch with my brother, and this one went wide, and I missed it," he was talking fast in explanation. I chuckled. "No harm done." Bending down, I picked up his ball and handed it to him. "I'm Bill, and that's my boy, Sean. You are new to the neighborhood, aren't you?" "Thanks," he said, taking the ball. "Yep. I am David, and my mom and brother and I just moved in next door a couple of months ago." Just then, what must have been his brother, came walking up. They looked alike, except for the age difference. His brother seemed to be about two years his junior. "This is Will," David pointed out his brother. "Nice to meet you, Will. Well, thanks for coming by, boys. Enjoy your game of catch. You'd have to have a pretty good arm to hit any of my windows, so as long as it's just my yard your balls are landing in, we've got no problem," I said, joking. They looked relieved and ran back through the bushes, presumably to return to their play. A few hours later, Sean was happily tucked away in bed and I was sitting out in the back patio looking up at the sky full of stars, and sipping on some bourbon. I was thinking of Hamad, and missing our stargazing. Many times I'd wished I had heard from him. I heard the sounds of rustling bushes and crinkling leaves coming from the next yard, and I looked over. Within a few minutes, I saw David's figure emerge from the dark. He walked up to me confidently. "You're up late," I observed, in a low voice. "He...hello, Sir," David replied, hesitantly. "Are you ok, is everything alright?" I thought to ask, although my curiosity was certainly raised. "Yes, everything is ok. I just couldn't sleep, so I came outside," he answered. "It's a beautiful night," I commented, then, indicating the chair next to me, I offered, "come take a seat, and look up at the stars with me." He did, and soon we were recalling constellations, "There is Orion," he observed. "Yep, he's always the easiest to see in the sky. And the dippers, do you see them there? And then follow the line from the end to the North Star." We had a pleasant conversation for a bit. I told him about Afghanistan, and about the clear desert sky at night. He was wearing only a tshirt, and the night was chilly. I saw him let loose a shiver. I scooted my chair closer, and put my arm around him. "C'mere, let me warm you up," I offered. Now, as you know, I am a boylover. A young man to me is the most beautiful, sensual thing. I love the innocence and the curiosity and the opportunity to teach. I love the way a boy's cock proudly grows, sticking out from a lean frame, no hair yet to mask it. I love the way one can teach a boy to kiss, to receive the lips and tongue of a man. This boy felt so nice snuggling up to me. His lean, lithe body felt good alongside mine. He smelled clean and soapy - he must have showered tonight before he went to bed. Instinctively I kissed the top of his head. Quietly, I asked "How old are you, son?" "Thirteen," came his reply. "A good age," I commented. He snuggled up closer, and my arm went more tightly around him. I rested my chin on the top of his head, his thick hair smelled so good. My other arm crossed around me and him, and I pulled him into me. I felt his head move, tipping back, as if to look at me. I turned my head and looked toward him, and met his gaze immediately. I knew the look. He had longing in his eyes, curiosity. Remarkably, no fear or uncertainty. What could I do? I closed the distance between our faces, and pressed my lips against his. I heard him moan, and then he opened his mouth, responding to my kiss. Some lucky man had already taught this boy to kiss, but I wasn't one to complain about walking where others had before, so I deepened the kiss. I pulled on his shoulders, suggesting he get out of his chair and straddle me. It's amazing how much can be communicated without words, just with bodies and hands and strength. As soon as he was straddling me, our chests pushed against each other, my arms wrapped fully around him, our kiss became deeply erotic. I claimed his mouth, and then cupped his face, caressing it, and kissing his nose, cheeks, jawline, earlobes, eyebrows. He moaned and kissed me back, giving as good as he got. I felt his hardness pressed against me, and this thirteen year old had a pretty big cock. It was particularly easy to feel with only the light fabric of some loose basketball shorts to contain it. I nibbled and nipped and kissed his throat and collar, and wrapped my big hand around his cock through his shorts. His breath hitched. "Mmmmmmmm, yeah," he purred. There are few things more instantly erotic than the purring sound of a boy who is letting himself get lost in lust, and in me it unlocked a sort of point of no return. This wasn't just going to end in some kissing and groping. I knew it. We both knew it. I dipped my hand into his waistband, and took his cock well in hand. I was delighted and amazed to find that he was uncut. As I mashed my lips against his, I slowly slid his foreskin from the head of his cock, finding it wet with precum. I swirled my thick thumb around the head of his dick, playing with his piss slit, and he moaned into my mouth. Eventually, I slid my hand down his shaft, feeling all of what must have been about four and a half or five inches of boycock. I jacked him off, nice and slow and steady while I continued my assault on his mouth, jaw, throat, anywhere I could kiss him and give him pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so good, your hand, don't stop!" He begged. I had no intention of stopping, and now that I knew this hot piece of ass lived next door to me, I wasn't going to be stopping for years to come. I gripped him tighter and jacked him a little more quickly, loving the way his body responded. He threw his head back, and I licked his throat and neck. "I'm gonna cum, you're making me cum!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "That's right boy, cum for me. Do it now!" I commanded. And he did. Oh, to be young again. The first shot rocketed over his shoulder, then all over his shirt, more and more, like a damn fountain he sprayed my shirt, his chin, my hand was coated in his jizz. Still, I jacked him, and still he came. Fuck he had some good balls! Finally, his orgasm subsided, and he slumped against me. I withdrew my cum-covered hand, and I fed from it, tasting his sweet nectar. He watched in amazement as I licked every drop. Then he found my lips and he kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, the kiss of a lover. It lingered. I could have stayed like that, but my cock was throbbing, leaking. I flexed it into him, and he felt it, and he knew what I was communicating. He slid back, and went from straddling me to kneeling in front of me, pulling at my waistband. I chuckled, and lifted my ass from the chair so he could pull my workout shorts down. Once free of its fabric prison, my cock slapped against my tummy. He let out a low moan as he came to grips with how big and how thick it is. I placed my finger on his chin, and tipped his head up to meet my gaze. "You got this, Dave," I encouraged. He licked his lips, and down he went. I was impressed with the kid, he did his damndest to stuff as much of my cock into his mouth as he could. I felt him gag a couple of times, and had a weird sense of pride that whoever it was who'd taught this filth to him must have been smaller than I am, because he was definitely needing to adapt and learn. He licked my shaft, kissed the head of my dick, sucked me, and pumped my cock with his fist. "Fuck yeah, you little fucking pig. I love the way you're feasting on my big dick, boy. You look like you know what you want, don't you, pig?" I growled. He nodded, and took more of my cock, swirling his tongue on my sensitive glans. "Born to it, boy, you're a natural cocksucking pig. I love the way it feels. Yeah, play with my balls, too, boy," I praised as he starting to fondle my heavy ballsac. "You're lips feel like fucking fire on my dick, fucking cumslut. You keep doing that and I'm gonna feed you my big fat load. You're ready for that?" I inquired, not really caring how he answered. "Mmmhmmmf!" He affirmed, his throat full of my dick. I encircled my hands on his head, and pulled him as far as I dared onto me. I knew he couldn't take all of me tonight. We'd work on this in the future, but I was getting close, and I didn't want him to think he could back off now. He responded, good boy that he is, and kept sucking. I threw my head back, and let out a low grown, and my nuts started to churn a load up my dick and into his greedy fucking mouth. The kid took it like a fucking champ, and he kept swallowing as I flooded his gullet with a whole day's worth of my cum. I fucked his mouth, and he let loose around it so that I could have my way with him. My orgasm was intense, filling me from my toes to my ears, and I pumped a huge load into this boy. As I subsided, I pulled out my cock leaving his suction with a plop. I looked down at him, and his well-fucked puffy lips were turned up into a satisfied smile. I ruffled his hair, and put my hands under his armpits, encouraging him to come back up and sit against me. I caressed his face, and I thought to ask him "I hope that was ok with you. I know I was a little rough there when I got going. You are really amazing." If he answered that he was ok with it, this was going to be on, and he'd be getting all of me from now on; if he looked tentative, I knew I'd have to move into damage control. I wanted to keep this boy coming back for more, and I wanted to keep this private. A boy's security and self-esteem need to be supported or he might get spooked. "I liked it. You are really intense," he replied. "You know what you're doing," I said, hoping he'd tell me who initiated him into the perverted club of which he was clearly a member. "You bring out the beast in me," I confided. "Yeah," was all he said. Some things would remain a mystery for now. I kissed him sweetly, and held him, content to be sitting under a starry night with a loving boy. ___ Thank you, as ever, for reading what I write. There have been many requests to hear more about Bill, and I hope this direction is one that you like. I think we're going to stay with Bill for a bit longer, but don't forget about Ben and Nick - they're exploring more together as well. We'll hear from them soon, but in the next chapter, Bill and David have some more to tell us. Stay tuned for Part 11.