Date: Wed, 10 Feb 2010 03:20:52 -0500 From: Alex Bowers Subject: The Freckled Boy - 1 This story will contain descriptions of a sexual relationship between a man and a boy. If this is not legal for you to read or you are offended by such, then the obvious choice is: don't read it. This story is purely fiction. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Freckled Boy - 1 A bright flash briefly lit up the room, followed quickly by the loud rumbling of thunder. Leo, my little yorkie, whimpered softly from his familiar hiding spot under the piano bench. Poor little guy never was a fan of thunderstorms. Especially this one. The weatherman had predicted this one would be a whopper, and for once the oily guy was right. We were two solid hours into the storm, and it didn't look to be letting up anytime soon. I usually ran outdoors in the evenings, especially on a summer evening like this one. But due to the torrential downpour outside, I opted instead to curl up on the couch with a movie and some coffee with Bailey's. Ten minutes into the movie, I thought I heard a crashing sound outside of my window, but didn't think much of it; figured the wind was knocking stuff around. I laughed aloud at the thought of it carrying away my nosy neighbor lady's annoying cat. A few minutes later, I began to hear a repetitive noise. It sounded like shouting. I paused the movie and could faintly hear someone yelling loudly, "help! Help!" I threw on my coat and opened the door to find a soaking wet figure sitting on my front porch. I turned on the light and instantly recognized one of the local boys. He was coatless, merely sporting a thin T-shirt and worn-out jeans. I could see his bared knees were scraped up and bleeding. "Hey, buddy. What's wrong?" I asked. "I'm stuck. Can you help?" he replied. He turned a bit, and I noticed his bike lying on the ground in front of him. I immediately saw his problem. His untied shoelace had snagged on the chain, and in turn tangled up in the gears. That would explain the bloody knees. I went into the house, returning with scissors to cut the shoelace free from the gears. The tire rim was bent, and I looked around the area and spotted a nicely sized dent in the passenger door of my car. That would explain the recent crashing sound. When he saw me look at the car, he stood up and tried to run. I grabbed him by the arm "Woah woah woah... hold up a minute." He turned to me with a worried look in his eyes, "I'm so sorry about your car, mister. Please don't hurt me. I'll pay for it." "Hurt you?" I questioned. "I would never want to hurt you, especially over something as meaningless as a dent on my car. But from the size of the dent, it looks like you hit it pretty hard. I just want to make sure you're ok. Come on in for a minute." I lead him in the house and offered him some hot cocoa, which he eagerly took. I cleaned up and bandaged his knees. Nothing major, just a few scratches. I glanced at the clock, and was surprised to see it was almost 11pm. What on earth was this kid doing out so late by himself in the middle of a rainstorm? "What's your name, bud?" "Reese," he said after finishing his cocoa in one gulp. "I'm twelve." "Reese, what are you doing out so late, especially in a storm? And why aren't you wearing a coat? Do your folks know you're out here?" "I ain't wearin' a coat cuz I ain't got one. And Mom's probably too drunk to care. Her new asshole boyfriend is over, and he started teasing me and being a jerk, so I left. As long as I'm not in her hair, she couldn't care less." I had been around kids enough to know how they like to throw in exaggerations to spice up their stories, so I took his words with a grain of salt. "Well I'm gonna call her anyway. She's probably worried sick." He just shrugged, and went to pull Leo out of his hiding place. I grabbed my cell and had Reese dial her number. After the third ring, a somewhat-slurred female voice answered, "This is Angela." "Hi, Angela, this is Mark Trimble. I have your son, Reese, sitting in my living room." "Uh oh. What did he do now? Did he steal something?" "No, no. Not at all. He took quite a fall on his bike outside of my house. He's a little banged up, but he seems to be ok. I can't say the same for his bike, though." "Serves him right, running off into a storm like that. Maybe he'll learn a lesson." "Hmmm, well I was calling to see what you wanted me to do with him. He can't ride his bike home, and I don't want him to walk in this weather. Would you like to come get him?" "Well, here's the thing, Mark," she said, obviously annoyed by this situation. "I'm a little too toasted to be driving, So if you don't want him, you can take him home. He has a key. If not, he can walk home tomorrow when it's clear out. Either way, I'm letting you go now. Thank you for calling. Goodnight." She hung up. Hmm... Maybe Reese was right after all. I looked over at the wet boy who had relocated to the couch, holding Leo in his lap. "Let me guess. She didn't care," he said knowingly. "Well, it seems like you were right, Reese. She said she was a little too drunk to come get you, and that I could either take you home tonight, or she'd come get you tomorrow." He immediately perked up, "Can I stay with you? Please don't make me go back there tonight!" "Reese, you don't even know me, bud." "Yeah I do!" He retorted. "Well, kinda. You bought me ice cream once. We were at the Country Cone and you were in line behind me. I ordered my shake, but my money had fallen out when I was riding my bike, and I couldn't pay, so you paid for me." As he described the situation, I remembered that day. Now that explained why he looked so familiar to me. I remembered paying for his ice cream, and thinking that he was quite the little hottie. "Besides," he pointed at the picture of a boy on the wall, "I've seen you with that blonde kid around all the time. You seem like a nice guy. Is that your kid?" "No," I replied, "unfortunately, it's not. That's my sister's boy, Tristan. He comes over once in awhile for a weekend." "Cool. So can I stay?" He insisted. "Man, you are persistent! Well it IS late, and it's still pouring, so I guess you can. You can sleep in my guest bedroom," I conceded, to his joy. "However, you need to get out of those clothes. I've got an extra pair of Tristan's shorts and a shirt that you can wear until your clothes are dry." He went into the bathroom and changed, returning wearing Tristan's shorts, and nothing else. "How do I look?" he smirked. Finally, I took a good look at the boy. His golden brown hair was very short, almost buzzed. His nose and cheeks were covered lightly in freckles, just the right amount. He was of average height for a twelve-year-old boy, and he was fairly skinny. His ears stuck out in a cute way, and he had a cute, goofy grin. His chest was smooth and somewhat tan. Tristan's shorts were a little too big for him, so they hung low on his hips, and my cock twitched with the thought of seeing him turn around. "Well I can see they're a little big on you, but I'm sure at the rate you're growing, it won't be long before you're fitting in `em just fine. Wanna watch a movie? I'll let you pick. They're over by the TV." "Sure!" He ran past me, unsuccessfully trying to hold up his shorts, giving me a great view of the top of his beautiful, round boy butt, instantly making my cock grow even more. The tops of his cheeks formed a kissable perfect "V." He chose an X-Men film, and when I sat down on the sofa, he scooted over and snuggled himself under my arm. I was a little shocked, but I definitely didn't reject it. I put my arm around him and squeezed him firmly yet gently as he buried his head in my chest. I smelled his hair, and breathed in the wonderful scent of this boy. My heart started to race, and my stomach began to flip. If I wasn't mistaken, I was quickly falling for this boy. "Thanks, Mark. For everything." "You're welcome, Reese." We stayed cuddled up like that for the rest of the movie. He had zonked out in the middle of the movie, but I didn't move him. I stayed in that position until the movie ended. After it was over, I picked him up and carried him into the guest bedroom. I covered him up, kissing his cheek. I turned off the light and went to my room. I stripped to my boxers, and laid down, listening to the sound of rain hitting the window, until I fell asleep, dreaming about what it would be like to share a bed with the beautiful freckled boy in next room over. ________________________ Feedback and thoughts are welcomed. This is my first attempt at writing. Future installments WILL contain more sexual activity, but any good story needs a solid, somewhat believable foundation. Once that is built, the fun can (and will) happen. alxjbwrs84@gmail.com