Endangered Species Chapter 3

 

And it was all those things, as well as my barely teenage excitement to at doing something so wrong but which felt so good, that had me standing in the same place the next day. I watched the car pull up and without hesitation opened the passenger door and slid inside. I didn't need to be lured or dragged, much as those fantasies excited my over-active imagination, and I smiled at him as I settled into the seat and buckled my belt.

"Mum's gonna be home earlier today," I told him, the disappointment obvious in my voice. "She got a conference at the weekend and she's working at home to prepare for it."

 

"Shit happens," I said when he told me he hadn't got much time today, "But the only thing that matters is that you're here."

 

I put a hand on his knee, not in a threatening 'I want your cock' way, but as a substitute for kissing him, which is what I wanted to do but was far too dangerous to attempt where we were. He didn't flinch when I touched him, didn't give the slightest hint that my hand on his knee was unwelcome. Far from it; he put his own hand over mine and gave a gentle, daring squeeze.

 

"I didn't dare to hope you'd come," I told him, "Didn't dare to think anything that magic could happen. But you're here and I want to eat you." I smiled at him, hoping he'd take that as a joke because what I'd said was a bit of a slushy thing to say to a thirteen year old boy. "But, as eating gorgeous thirteen year old schoolboys isn't allowed," I grinned again, "Have we got time to drive out to Starbucks again and get you another one of those sickly strawberry milkshakes that actually taste pretty good when you're kissing a boy?"

 

I smiled shyly and placed my own smaller hand on his as he touched my knee. I was too tongue tied to tell him how pleased I was to see him so instead squeezed his hand to let him know I liked his touch.

The phrase, 'I want to eat you,' made me laugh and I first had an image of him barbecuing me, then an image of a different sort of eating which didn't involve cooking but did I make my cock go stiff in my school trousers.

"Don't reckon I'd taste very good," I joked as we drove off, happy to go and get a milkshake and be in his car. "Sorry about mum, she usually works late but she's got to go away all weekend and is at home preparing her stuff."

I felt daring telling him that last part, not because he was interested in my mum's work but because it revealed I was a boy who's mum would be absent for a whole weekend, a boy without his primary protector for two days, and as such this might be the perfect time for a man to capture that boy and make him his.

Of course I didn't need capturing, far from it, but the excitement of the idea was clear in my voice and I blushed a bit thinking I had given myself away. I was still confused by these feelings, and while I knew I liked them and loved being with him, I couldn't articulate them.

 

"What happens to you while your mum's away?" I asked as we headed out to Starbucks, "She doesn't just leave you on your own at the mercy of pervs like me, does she?"

 

"Nah", I laughed, "Supposed to be going to Joe's for a sleepover."

 

"Supposed ....?"

 

"He's invited like ten mates, he won't care if I don't show up and his mum and mine aren't mates."

 

"So your mum won't be checking up with his mum that you're there and being a good boy?"

 

"She'll text me probably, she won't ring his house." I gave him a shy smile.

 

"You do realise that you're telling this to a perv who's made it very clear that he wants your cock, that he likes your cock, in fact he thinks it's an utterly irresistible cock and it's attached to a boy he finds it very difficult to keep his hands off, even when he's driving that boy to get a milkshake, because he thinks that boy is gorgeous and yummy and he'd grab the chance to whisk that boy off for an evil, wicked weekend?

 

I kept my face straight, my eyes on the road while I said this. Dylan had to realise what he could be getting himself into.

 

"Yeah I know you're a proper perv," I laughed and flicked my head to get my hair out of my eyes, "But reckon two days with you will be more fun than two days at Joe's."

 

"Certainly be more fun for me," I agreed with a smile, "You know I fancy you something rotten."

 

I smiled shyly and went back to looking out the window. "Like hanging out with you," I mumbled.

 

"Snap," I said, and took my left hand off the wheel so I could reach out and take hold of his right one where it was resting on his lap. I gave it a squeeze that wasn't at all a perv's squeeze but something very different, though a squeeze that society would condemn as being just as bad as the squeeze of a perv.

 

"Better tell them what you want," I said as I pulled up by the Drive Thru window, "You'll need this," I added, handing him a £10 note.

 

I smiled as he held my hand. If mum had done that I'd have been mortified but Rob was different.

"Strawberry frappo please", I took my drink from the next window and took a long slurping suck of the straw as we drove. Another long suck made me wrinkly my nose and squeeze my eyes shut as I got a brain freeze and I held out the cup.

"Want some, it's well nice."

 

 

 

"No thanks," I smiled, "I prefer it when it's blended with the flavour of boy."

 

I giggled and went back to sucking on the straw. "Wanna snog more?" I asked hopefully.

 

"Mmmmm, strawberry flavoured snog. I could go for that."  This boy was just amazing, going from a scared kid threatening me with a 999 call if I made a false move to a boy almost begging for a snog in slightly less than twenty four hours! "We got time to go up to our snog spot, though? There's no way I'm getting you into 'Where you been? You were due home ages ago!' trouble."

 

I looked at the clock. "Nah mum will be home soon, need to be in when she gets there."

 

"Fuck!" I cursed, "But can't be helped. How are things for the rest of the week? Will you have time for quick meetings after school or will you be needing to get straight home? Real bummer that we can't snog now but if I'm able to kidnap you for the weekend we can make up for it then."

 

"Yeah sorry," my voice was disappointed but as a thirteen year old boy I was used to mum appearing at the worst possible time to spoil any plans she wouldn't approve of.

"She's off all week, it's well annoying, but on Saturday she's gonna drop me off at the cinema then go off to her conference. What if I told her to drop me off early and we met up instead? Then I could text Joe and say I wasn't feeling well and couldn't come. He won't care, he knows that I'm better mates with Connor and won't try and get me to come if I don't want to."

 

"So I turn up with handcuffs and ropes, bundle you in the back of the car and drive you to my lair where I can do unspeakable things to you," I grinned. "Yeah, that works for me. What time you want to be kidnapped on Saturday?"

 

I laughed, pretty sure Rob was joking even though he looked serious. "11, supposed to be meeting them at 12 so means we won't run into `em."

I took another slurp of my drink, imagining what the unspeakable things might be. I knew this was no longer a game and I was taking it far beyond safe. What if he changed when we're alone? What if he was only pretending to be nice? What if he really did mean to hurt me? What if....

 

I stopped a couple of streets from his, a street I knew was on his way home from school, outside a house with a high conifer screen, It was always in need of cutting and never got one.

 

"Dylan," I said, trying to turn this enormous leap into the unknown that he was going to make into a game, "You are the Boy Secret Agent, the Boy Hero on the trail of the notorious, dangerous Rob the Perv. That hedge is a dead letter drop. If, on your way home, you see paper in there it will be a secret message for you, and like all good secret messages, it is for your eyes only."

 

I knew I should not do what I did next, but I did it anyway, I gave his crotch a gentle squeeze, "And make sure you look after your secret weapon properly," I grinned at him.

 

 

I let out a little moan as he squeezed my crotch, involuntarily thrusting my hips forward a bit.

"Better watch out Rob the Perv," I smirked at him as I got out the passenger door, "Boy Agent Dylan's gonna get ya." I laughed as I walked off, noting the location of the conifer tree and resolving to check it every day.

And that's exactly what I did, scanning it surreptitiously as I walked past it on the way to and from school. For the first few days I was disappointed to find nothing, then on Friday, when I'd almost given up hope, I saw a piece of paper lodged inside. Carefully I bent down, pretending to tie my shoe lace so I could check no-one was watching. Then, cautiously so not to make any noise I reached in and pulled it free before opening it up to read the contents.

 

I spent a lot of time thinking about Dylan, analysing his action and his words, getting to know and understand the boy who now meant rather more to me that, perhaps, he should.

 

That he was a brave kid was beyond doubt; he'd been scared when I did that picture of him, but he hadn't run for safety, showing it to parent or teacher. He'd faced the perceived threat and dealt with it. He knew all the dangers that came with getting involved with a strange man, a man who turned out to be someone who liked boys, liked them in 'that way'.

 

He knew something of what he was getting himself into, knew that he was being dragged further and further in by the sheer danger and excitement of it, and then, overcome by the fact that he was a thirteen year old boy with far too many bouncing hormones, he'd done what he'd never believed he would do. Done it, liked it and wanted to do it again. And more,. Whatever more was, he wanted to do it.

 

He was still a young boy despite all that, a young boy with a young boy's fantasies, and if I was going to explore some of that 'more' with him and not scare him, terrify him, scar him, then I should make it a game for him. Not in any attempt to deceive him, make him think that what he was doing was not serious, but make it fun for him.

 

I spent two days writing him a story - not a problem, I earn my living by writing, a story just for him, a story where he was the hero.

 

He, as Boy Hero, was given the task of neutralising the Dangerous Perv, but his mission goes wrong. Instead of trapping the Dangerous Perv he is kidnapped by him, endures unspeakable tortures and eventually manages to turn the tables by his cunning and his intelligence and subdues the Dangerous Perv, turning him instead into Faithful Friend.

 

There was no actual sex in the story - it was a boys' adventure story, not porn, but there were masses of allusions, hints and innuendoes that would be meat and drink to a hormone charged teenage boy.

 

I posted it in the 'dead letter box' on Friday, where he'd find it on his way home from school, and then went to a little boutique who'd print anything on anything that could be worn, and collected the two tee shirts and two pairs of boxers that I'd ordered.

 

One tee shirt had BOY HERO on it, the other THE DANGEROUS PERV. The boxers were both for him, one with BOY HERO'S SECRET WEAPON across the crotch, the other ENTRY BY AUTHORISED HANDS ONLY there.

 

I'd give them to him when we met on the Saturday, although I was going to be wearing THE DANGEROUS PERV when I picked him up.