WARNING: The following story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men and minors, especially boys. If you are under 18 years of age, READ NO FURTHER. If you are an opponent of the First Amendment of the U. S. Constitution, or are morally opposed to sexually explicit fiction involving minors, READ NO FURTHER. The following story is fantasy only and was written for the author's private enjoyment, based upon a few photographs of a VERY beautiful boy. This fiction is not intended to contribute in any way to illegal actions by the reader, nor is it intended to contribute in any way to harmful acts toward children.
From Vasia With Love
by
Boisterous
I was in Moscow to listen to an offer of a professorship, and the university and was quite interested in recruiting me. Further, because of a new joint Russian/U.S.A. space program being proposed, my government also supported the move. Their officials rolled out the red carpet for me. Instead of taking their hospitality, I insisted on paying for my own room in one of the finest, old world hotels in Moscow. Mr. Kuylik met me at the airport and oriented me to my arrangements and my schedule for the upcoming week. I arrived on a Friday, thinking I could explore Moscow over the weekend and start the negotiations on Monday without the impediment of jet lag.
Mr. Kuylik got me to my taxi after I declined his invitation for dinner for the 10th time. As he leaned in through the window of the cab, he said, "There is a man who will meet you at the hotel named Mickel. He is expecting you and he will make sure that you have access to the best our country has to offer." He leaned in closer. "Even if it is illegal."
"Anything?" I asked with a smirk.
"There are some things he may not be able to provide, but I can assure you that you need not be lonely or lacking in physical gratification."
"Even if I have unusual tastes?"
"Try him and see. I assure you that everything you do will be kept in strictest confidence."
I tipped the cabbie, tipped the head bellboy and finally got settled into my room. I had just kicked off my shoes and was laying in the bed when there was a gentle tap on the door. Wearily I rose and opened the door. A smiling man of about my age -- 40 -- stood in the doorway with a bottle of vodka in his hand.
"Hello, Mr. Rand. I am Mickel."
I ushered him into the room. He said, "I do not want to appear too forward, but I will arrange for your pleasure during your stay. Can you tell me what you desire? I encourage you to let yourself go, choose what you have forbidden yourself but always wished to have."
"For instance?"
"Speak your desire and I will do my best."
"Still, I want an example."
"I could arrange for you to have, say, a 7 year old virgin girl to use as you please. Or perhaps some uncut cocaine."
I sat down. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, if you're serious, I'd like to spend some time in the company of a beautiful boy."
"I happen to enjoy the company of little girls myself. There are fewer choices at my disposal for boys than for girls, but I do have access to several. Tell me what you would prefer."
I smiled. "Okay. My best dream would be a blond with delicate features, maybe 12 or 14 years old, who is shy but eager to please. A boy who would like to snuggle and who has some, but not too much, experience in oral and anal sex. Can you do that?"
Mickel smiled. "I can come close. May I use your telephone?" He spoke in Russian into the phone. After a minute he asked, "Sure you don't want a 5 year old virgin boy. He has blond hair and blue eyes and is very shy."
"I prefer older and a little more experienced. That way I won't feel as guilty about it."
Mikel spoke into the phone again. When he hung up he said, "An associate will be bringing a boy here in about 30 minutes. I'm a little concerned about offering him to you because he hasn't been trained in the manner you would prefer. May I pour you a drink?"
Within 20 minutes, there was a man at the door. Mickel let him into the room. Standing behind the man was a beautiful blond boy who appeared to be about 10 years old. Mickel said, "This is a friend of mine and a boy he works with. The boy's name is Vasia." Mickel spoke in Russian and the boy stepped out from his hiding place behind the other man so that I could look at him. Vasia set a small paper bag down. He didn't even attempt to look up at me as he stripped off all his clothes. He stood showing me his front side for a moment, then turned and showed me his shapely buttocks. After a command from Michel, he got dressed again. The kid was gorgeous. His cock was uncut, but he had a short foreskin that formed a pucker just beyond the end of his glans.
The man spoke in Russian to Mickel for a couple of minutes. Mickel then turned to me and said, "Vasia will be 10 years old on Sunday. I know that is a little younger than you requested, but all of our boys in the 12 to 14 year old range had sufficient experience and exposure to our customers that we send them out to the docks to serve the merchant marines. We wanted to get you a boy with less wear and tear."
Michel continued, "This boy became an orphan only recently, so he is not as experienced. Also, he is overly shy and anxious and that puts some men off. He lives in a home with 110 other boys. He started entertaining men only a few weeks ago. Vasia has performed oral sex on many occasions in the past month. He has only entertained one man, a man who has rather violent tastes. He has been with that man 3 out of the past 4 weekends, but that man has been detained by the police. Because of the nature of his previous experience, Vasia may be unappealing to you. Even if you agree to take him for the night, you do not need to keep him all weekend. As I said, there are other choices, though none are blond. Want to give him a try?"
"Yes. He seems perfect. What do you men by violent tastes?"
"His passion is to hold a boy down and rape him with such force that the pressure his cock puts on the boy's bladder makes it release. Then he beats Vasia with a belt as punishment for pissing. The first time he came back bleeding from the rectum. As a result, the boy may not be passionate, though I assure you he will do anything to please you."
Again the men spoke in Russian. Mickel told me, "You need to know that he doesn't speak a word of English. Also, though he is treated roughly by his partner, he never complains about going to see him. In fact, he was disappointed when he learned the man was arrested and not available to him.
"Ask him if he wants to stay with me."
"That is not a necessary question, Mr. Rand. He definitely does want to stay with you. He wants to bring you pleasure or we would not have offered him to you. He is a little tense and too eager to please, but my associate says that a couple shots of vodka loosen him up so he is more fun. If you are not pleased, we can offer you a couple other choices. Do you want to take him for overnight? We can call you tomorrow with a different boy."
I was too horny to be feeling any guilt. "Yes, please leave him."
"If you chose to treat him roughly, please don't leave marks on his face."
"I assure you I have no intention of treating him with anything but adoration."
"I confess I'm concerned that he won't respond with the warmth you seem to desire."
"Well, I'm willing to try if he is."
Michel spoke rapidly to Vasia. I could tell he was threatening him, though I didn't know why.
The boy cowered against the wall, and he replied with a trembling choice. It sounded as though he had asked a question.
"What have you told him?" I asked.
"I told him that I would not tolerate any mistakes, that you are the most important person he will ever spend time with. He asked me what he should do if you seem to want something from him but he can't understand you."
"Tell him that I'll be very plain about what I want. That he has no need to try to anticipate my desires."
"Okay. I'll leave my number. Don't hesitate to leave a message with the person who answers. I'll be back to you within a few minutes of your call. I hope you enjoy."
When the two men left, Vasia looked up at me. I think it was for the first time. He studied me, his hands held at his sides, probably waiting for a direction from me. I couldn't think of anything to say that he could understand. I went to a dinette chair and motioned for him to sit. He practically leaped into the chair.
I sat in a chair across the table from him and smiled my friendliest smile. Though I knew he wouldn't understand me, I decided to talk to him. I figured he would be put at ease by my deep, gentle voice. My voice's calming effect had helped me in working with colleagues, and I was confident it would work on the 9 year old boy -- nearly 10 -- in front of me.
He was like a finch on a perch in a cage, flighty, fidgety, afraid. I studied his beautiful face. He had creamy skin and dark blue eyes. His nose was not small and neither was it large. It fit his face perfectly. His lips, surprisingly red and sensuously full, drew most of my attention. I imagined kissing them. And my darker side imagined then wrapped around my cock. I had every reason to assume that both were likely to happen soon. He had three small birthmarks on his neck: one below his left ear, another beneath that and closer to his throat, and a third one on his collarbone. On the surface, his straight hair was blond and rather raggedly cut so that his right eyebrow was obscured by it and his left eyebrow, which was delicate and dark, was clearly visible . Beneath the shimmering, smooth blond hair, the hair color was jet black. I had at first thought of him as a skinny little waif, but I saw he was solidly build (for a 9 year old), and I could tell that he was not a dull boy. Torn between pity and lust, I grabbed the room service menu and handed it to him. I pointed from the menu to Vasia and made an eating motion. He shyly looked down and shook his head no. I slid my chair next to him and swept my finger down the page, trying to demonstrate my insistence.
I picked up the phone and was relieved to hear a man ask, "May I help you?" in English.
"I'd like to order a meal, and then I'd like you to take an order from a visitor I have who doesn't speak English."
"What may I get you, sir?"
"Shrimp cocktail for an appetizer, chicken Kiev, and strawberry cheesecake for dessert. I'm going to hand the phone to Vasia. Please ask him to order something for his dinner."
Vasia's eyes got wide when I handed him the phone. He held it to his ear as though he thought it might hurt him. There was a long pause, and then he spoke a few words. After another short pause, he spoke another word. He handed the phone back to me.
"What did he order?" I asked.
"He asked for the least expensive item on the menu, then ordered it -- grilled cheese."
"Please send him the same meal as me. Also, please send a good bottle of white wine."
Vasia studied me whenever I wasn't looking directly at him. I wished I could talk with him. It felt unnerving. I knew he was expecting sex, and I certainly knew I wanted sex, yet I didn't want him to offer himself out of duty. I wanted him to want me, too. I didn't know how to begin that process. I got my portable CD player out and plugged external speakers into it. The gently stringed sounds of Hayden filled the room. I took off my shoes.
He lifted his foot and pointed to his shoe, his shoulders lifted questioningly. I smiled and nodded. He slipped his tattered black shoes off. His socks had holes in them. I grabbed the phone and spoke to the front desk. They agreed to send a tailor up to measure Vasia for some new clothes. Perhaps if I showered him with gifts, he would know I was not a brute out to fuck him till he pissed himself.
The food and the tailor arrived at about the same time. The tailor, an effeminate balding man, offered instructions to Vasia in Russian on how to stand to be measured. He measured Vasia's chest, waist, inseam, and shoe size. Then he took my order for clothing, saying he would deliver them first thing in the morning.
Vasia and I sat down to our meal. He watched me as I removed the silver covers from the dishes. I gestured for him to do the same. He looked at the food in dismay, then said something in a panicked voice. "Try it. You'll like it I'm sure," I said, using my most soothing voice.
He looked miserable as he ate. He ate quickly and without looking around. There was more food than I could eat, but I noticed the boy kept up with me, practically bite for bite. Then I saw the first great tear move unsteadily down his cheek. I rushed to his side and knelt down. I gently touched the tear to make it disappear. I stroked his hair, discovering its slippery, somewhat greasy texture.
He made a strange sound deep in his throat and bolted from the chair. Nearly at the bathroom door, he vomited. He tried to catch it in his hand, but it ran down his shirt and onto the bright red carpeting. Without looking at me, he stripped off his shirt and tried to wipe his vomit off the carpeting.
I knelt down beside him and took the shirt from his hand. I took his wrist and led him into the bathroom. Grabbing a hand towel from the rack I saturated it with warm water and used it to clean his chin. Fat tears crossed his cheeks. He trembled and suddenly sunk to the floor at my feet, curling himself into a fetal position and sobbing out of control.
He didn't resist as I sat next to him and pulled him into my arms. I stroked his hair and cooed soothingly. It didn't seem to help. I carried him to the bed and set him across it. Then I dialed Mickel, explaining that I thought the boy had the flu.
As promised, Mickel arrived a half hour later. Vasia had stopped crying, but remained in a fetal position on the bed. I rinsed his shirt in the sink and hung it over the shower rod to dry.
Mickel arrived in a foul mood. At the door he exclaimed, "I knew he was a bad match for you. I'll take him immediately and find someone more suitable."
I touched his arm, stopping him on his bee-line to the bed. "I want this boy very much. Very much. It's just that I think he has the flu or something. He is very suitable for me. In fact he exceeds my wildest dreams in beauty."
Mickel spoke tersely to Vasia. Vasia, still sobbing, answered as well as he could. After a few exchanges, Mickel turned to me. "First off, he doesn't have the flu. He said you don't find him attractive, that you haven't even asked him to undress. Then he was very upset for mistakenly ordering an expensive meal. He meant to order grilled cheese, but he had never spoken on a telephone before and he said he must have gotten confused. Then he was worried that he couldn't eat all the food, which would be an ever greater insult. Then he got sick. Anyway, he asked me to apologize to you for being unworthy. He wants me to beat him."
"That's crazy. Tell him I think he is the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Tell him I want to be naked with him, but that I want to go slow, that I want him to enjoy being with me. And tell him I ordered the meal for him."
The boy didn't look up as Mickel relayed my message. He did relax a lot and stop crying. He muttered a few words. Mickel told me, "He told me he can never be worthy of your attention. He wants me to find someone more suitable for you."
"Tell him that if he refuses to stay with me, I don't want anyone else. Any other boy would pale in comparison to him."
"He's not refusing to stay with you."
"I know. Please relay my message."
When Vasia heard my words, he looked up in surprise. When he spoke in a stronger voice, Mickel laughed. "He says he won't believe you like him until your seed is inside him. Maybe he is better trained than I had thought."
"Tell him that I cannot put my seed inside him until I am convinced that he likes me and trusts me. To convince me he will have to relax."
Mickel relayed the message and Vasia rolled onto his back on the bed. He looked at me and smiled seductively. "May I leave?" Mickel asked.
"Thanks for coming over and straightening this out."
After he was gone, I grabbed the cheesecake and sat next to him on the bed. As he started to sit up, I placed my hand gently on his chest. He looked up at me innocently. I stabbed my fork into the cheesecake and offered a bit of it to him. He opened immediately and beamed. He raised up on one elbow as I fed him a second bite. I noticed a birthmark just beside his left nipple. I thought it odd and sexy that all his birthmarks were on one side of his body. I touched it with my fingertip and he sighed. When I touched his erect nipple, he looked up at in surprise and a tremor seized him. He looked up in anticipation and I rewarded him with a tweaking sensation. He writhed on the bed and I thanked my lucky stars that he had sensitive nipples. The more pleasure I could give him, the more satisfaction I would achieve.
I gave him another bite, then set the plate down and brought both hands to his nipples, gently rolling him onto his back. When he lifted his arm over his head, I saw yet another birthmark, this one in his left armpit. I bent down and kissed it. His breathing was shallow and quick, reminding me of one time when I had held a rabbit by its delicate ribs.
His skin was nearly translucent, as I was able to see the blue veins on his chest, and shoulders. I kissed his shoulder, too. I drew myself closer, sitting on the bed with my legs dangling over the side. I kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. At first his lips were yielding, but devoid of passion. I used my lips to force his lips to part. My tongue snaked into his mouth. I touched each of his teeth and tickled at his tongue. Then I encircled his tongue with mine and started to suck on it. He was still very tense.
I gently broke from the embrace and went to get the bottle of vodka Mickel had given me. I got two water glasses. I poured him a small shot and a bigger shot for myself. He sat up and imitated me as I tipped the glass and emptied it. He didn't cough, but his eyes watered. I pushed him onto his back again and his mouth was open to meet mine this time. He even started to poke at my tongue with his own. I brought my body over the top of his and continued to kiss with him. After a few minutes, he wrapped his legs around my waist, and lifted his mouth to mine eagerly.
My cock ached within the confinements of my briefs and slacks. I sat up and took off my shirt. Then I slowly opened the boy's flys and slid his pants off. I was pleased to find his cock in a glorious 3 inch erection. For a boy who was several years from puberty, he had a nice set of balls. I rubbed his cock, then stroked his balls. When my finger touched below his balls, he raised his knees to give me access to his rectum. . He sent me clear signals that he wanted me to fuck him. It was what I wanted, too, but I wanted to wait, just in case he experienced any pain. I didn't want him to think I was like his other customer.
As I poured another shot for both of us, Vasia went over to grab the paper bag he had left by the door upon his arrival. He pulled a large jar of petroleum jelly from it, and scampered back to the bed. I took the jar and set it next to the bed. Then I handed him a glass with about an ounce of vodka in it. He waited for me to drink, then emptied it in a single gulp. He smiled. I smiled back and bent to French kiss him again. During our kiss, his hand landed in my lap as lightly as a goldfinch. When I didn't respond, he grew more bold and began to rub the length of my erection through my clothes.
As our kiss continued, I brought my hand down to his groin. I rubbed his healthy balls and lightly brushed his thin stalk. With an eagerness that had to be lust, Vasia began fumbling to open my fly. I did nothing to help him. In fact, I may have hindered him because his show of interest sparked me to begin working his silken foreskin across his glans. Muscles in Vasia's body seemed to fire randomly as his body quivered from intense pleasure. His hands let go of my zipper and clenched my hand, stopping me from further ministrations on his cock. His knees and shoulders attempted to converge on his groin to protect him from what I knew to be a powerful, but dry, orgasm.
I refused to let him go, though I did stop stimulating him. After less than a minute, he had recovered himself enough to return to the task of opening my fly. I took his hand and kissed it. Then I stood and undressed. With my cock bouncing before me like a drum major's baton, I changed the music to soft instrumental jazz and turned off all the lights. Vasia watched me from the bed. Actually, it seemed as though he watched my cock. When I climbed back into bed, he again reached for my cock. Again I grabbed his hand and kissed it, signaling for him not to continue.
I settled onto my side and pulled his back against my hairy chest so we nestled like spoons. I brought my cock between his legs so the glans protruded from between them. His balls pooled across my glans. I took his hand and brought it to the two inches of my cock sticking out from between his legs. He got the message immediately and began working my foreskin. I was oozing copious amounts of pre-cum and within a couple minutes, I could feel the familiar climb toward orgasm. As it became imminent, I slid the boy onto his back and got to my knees over him. He continued to pull the foreskin, bringing it across the glans.
"I'm cumming!" I groaned, and my semen streamed across his luminescent body. He flinched at the force of the first semen. He fearlessly worked through the subsequent pulses of fluid as they landed across his chest and stomach. I looked down in the gloom as the last of my spending oozed across his delicate fingers. I lay with my face nuzzled into his neck I dozed on and off for some time. When I'd recovered some of my energy, I realized that Vasia lay staring at the ceiling, my semen in puddles across his torso, waiting for me to do something.
I kissed his ear and he giggled. I got a towel and began wiping him clean. As I rubbed the soft towel across his chest and abdomen, his little cock became erect. I flicked gently at it with my finger, watching it bounce. The foreskin retracted enough as if to tease me with the ripe, red tip of his glans. I got up on one elbow and gazed down at him. He looked back up at me with an open expression that convinced me of his trust.
I kissed his neck. I kissed his collarbone. Then his nipples. He squirmed beneath my nipping teeth. I laved his round and shallow navel. He knew my next stop would be his cock because he sat up to watch. I poised myself over his cock, using two fingers to point it toward my mouth. Before sucking it, I looked into his face. His eagerness and apparent comfort indicated to me that he had been sucked before.
That didn't bother me. I smiled and he returned the smile. Then I licked his shaft, coating every inch of it. I ran the tip of my tongue around the delicate circle of wrinkled foreskin. I flicked my tongue across the tiny urethra. His hands found my head but he didn't try to guide my ministrations; instead, he was hugging me as best he could.
When I sucked his 3 inch shaft inside my mouth, my tongue cradled it, and Vasia responded by uttering, "O-O-O!" He clutched at my head and his legs became restless. I used my lips to retract his foreskin, then ran my tongue around the exposed glans several times. I'm sure I had never been that content in my entire life. Sucking his cock was a special privilege, and I wanted him to enjoy it more than anything he'd ever experienced. I bobbed my head, my lips touching his balls on each downward stroke, and as I lifted my head each time, I sucked, as if trying to use a straw to drink a thick milk shake. Even though Vasia was clearly experiencing a great pleasure, he took several minutes to orgasm. When it stuck, his orgasm turned him into a piston as his hips bucked against my face again and again. Though it seemed he was trying to be silent, a small pleasure/pain noise escaped his open lips. He panted for breath.
As soon as his orgasm passed, I released his cock and moved back up to nuzzle against his neck. Almost immediately, Vasia reached down to take a fistful of my erection. I gently guided his hand away and covered his eyes with my hand. I made a fake snoring sound, then lay back and closed my eyes. When I looked over at him a few minutes later, he was gazing at me. I smiled, then again gestured for him to go to sleep.
About 20 minutes later, his breathing slowed and I knew he had fallen asleep. I raised on one elbow and gazed at him, my heart overflowing with tenderness for this beautiful creature next to me. I knew I was the world's luckiest man. Vasia was physically everything a boy lover could hope for, but more importantly, there was a sweetness about him. Without being able to have a conversation, I had no significant insight into his overall way of looking at the world, but the light of intelligence sparkled in his eyes. I considered what his life was like--an orphan, living in an impoverished facility that in order to briefly escape from it he willingly allowed himself to be brutally raped every weekend.
I awoke the next morning to find him nestled under my arm like a chick in a hen's wing. I lay for as long as my bladder would allow for fear of awakening him. When I did get up to relieve myself, I noticed the message-waiting light was flashing on the telephone. Standing nude in the middle of the room, sunlight cascading across the red carpeting, I dialed the front desk. I was connected to Mickel.
"How was your evening?"
"Couldn't have been better. He's incredible!"
"I'm surprised -- but pleased -- that you find him satisfying. Do you want to keep him for another day, or do you prefer a new boy?"
"May I have another day with him?"
"If you wish."
As I spoke to Mickel, Vasia awoke and sat up, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. His tangled hair shone in the sunlight. He sleepily rubbed at an eye and smiled shyly at me. He had a morning erection. I pointed at him then pointed at the bathroom. He took my cue, and I followed him into the spacious bathroom. I handed him a towel and one of the small hotel bars of soap. I started the shower running for him, then left the room.
While he showered I ordered breakfast for us from room service. Our breakfast had arrived and still the water was running in the bathroom. I figured the boy probably had little experience with privacy and hot water for a shower, so I didn't fret about how long it took him. As the waiter set up our table, Vasia emerged from the bathroom stark naked. I noted the fleeting shocked expression on the man's face. At least Vasia's erection was gone. The boy padded over to the table and sat down as though there was nothing unusual about him walking around naked in front of strangers.
The waiter took my tip and left promptly.
Vasia's hair was wet, making it look completely black -- as though he had no blond highlights. I put on more music, then we sat and ate in silence. After we finished I excused myself to take a shower. I was just stepping under the spray when Vasia, without knocking, came walking in. He looked at me, then glanced quickly down at my cock. He stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking his cheeks hollow, then pointed at my swaying cock. I shook my head and ushered him out of the room. I scrubbed myself thoroughly in the shower, knowing that before long he would have my cock in his mouth.
When I emerged from the shower, Vasia, still naked, pointed to a stack of parcels that had been delivered. I moved them over to the table, sat down without getting dressed, and opened the first one. It was a turquoise Nike tee shirt. I handed it to Vasia. He looked at me in disbelief. I took the shirt back and slipped it over is neck. He slid his arms through. I pulled a couple more tee shirts from the parcel, then moved on to the next one. I chose a smaller one and was rewarded with a collection of underpants. There were several classic white briefs, as well as some silk briefs. There was even a silk g-string in his size, with a pouch about the size of a I think I may have blushed, wondering if he thought I had specially ordered the g-string. I handed him a pair of white briefs. There are few sights on earth more arousing to me that a boy wearing white, fly-front briefs. I opened anther package and handed him a pair of white socks. There were two pairs of blue jeans. When I handed one pair to him, he became so happy he hopped around in front of me, his face beaming. The jeans fit him like skin. The other pair, which I had not handed to him, were larger. After he had pranced about for a bit, I held out my arms. He leaped into my lap and kissed me enthusiastically.
My cock pulsed its way to a semi-erection, raising itself to the point where it brushed against his elbow. Vasia looked down, smiled seductively at me, and took my cock in his fist. I kissed his smiling lips again.
After a moment or two of jacking me off, he took the initiative and slid to the floor, bringing his face between my legs. He ran his tongue across the seeping glans and looked up for approval. I took his head in both hands and pulled his lips back to my cock. He licked up and down the shaft, worked his tongue under my foreskin, and coated my balls with saliva. When he took the knob into his mouth, I used pressure from my hands to let him know I wanted him to stay there. Soon his head moved up and down in my lap.
Hardly before I knew what happened, I exploded into his mouth. He sputtered and a second later gagged, but he remained valiantly in place as I emptied my load into his mouth. When I had completely finished, Vasia sat back and looked up at me, trying to read my reaction. He had cum clinging to his lip with a large drop dangling from a gossamer thread. He looked a little overwhelmed, and there were tears in his eyes, but he smiled in triumph at me.
I got dressed and we set out to explore the area surrounding the hotel. He followed right beside me as I went into the many shops in the square. It felt strange to be in a place where few people spoke the same language. I knew if I took the post at the University, I would have to learn Russian fairly quickly.
We ate lunch at a small outdoor café, and I realized that Vasia was looking at me differently than he had the night before. He seemed totally unafraid of me. Plus, there was a certain quality to his stare, as if he wished he could gaze at me forever. He was infatuated with me. I felt proud.
As afternoon wore on, I took him across a park. In the distance I could see the hotel. We passed a row of benches were chess boards were set up. Old and young males were playing. I stopped to watch for a while. Vasia pointed at me and himself, then the chess board. He was asking me to play. I took his hand and led him away.
I stopped at the gift shop and bought a chess set for a couple hundred dollars. I set the board up on the floor and took Vasia's shirt off. I opened his jeans and started to push then down. They were tight enough that he had to help. When the jeans were completely off, I tugged his underwear back into place. Then I stripped to my underwear and we sat on the floor to play chess.
I'm a pretty good chess player, and I didn't take him very seriously as an opponent. He beat me easily. I concentrated better the second game, but we played for over an hour with neither having a clear advantage. He was an excellent player -- and not just for a boy in the last day of his 9th year.
I pushed him onto his back and started to tickle him. As he thrashed around, the chess pieces went flying. When our mutual energy dwindled, I tugged off his underwear. I pulled his legs up and studied his anus. Vasia's expression was very serious, maybe even somber. I let him go and went to the bathroom.
When I came out of the bathroom, I found Vasia on the bed, one leg trailing over the side so his ass was fully exposed to me. He had the Vaseline on the bed next to him. He was ready for me. But I couldn't forget the serious look on his face. Fucking meant pain to him. I didn't want to be any part of his torment.
I left him and went to draw the bath water. As I finished adjusting the temperature, I became aware he stood in the doorway. I stripped off my underwear and climbed into the tub. Then I beckoned him. His cock had shriveled, giving me solid evidence that he was uncomfortable with anal sex. The problem for me was that I couldn't force it on him (against my morals) and I had to have it.
I pulled him in so his head lay against my chest as we both faced the faucets. My hand toyed with his floating penis. My own penis pressed into his buttocks and back. He wiggled against it, tilting his head back to look up at me with the gaze of an angel-beast. His beauty made me light-headed.
Despite the fact I couldn't give him verbal directions, I managed to position him on his hands and knees with his butt facing me. I soaped my hand and toyed with his dangling genitals. In the heat of the tub, his grape sized testes dangled freely. I felt him tense as I rubbed my soapy finger along the cleft of his butt. My fingertip began circling around and around his smooth anal tissues. He did nothing to resist me, but I could sense his body become more tense.
I took my time, rubbing and rubbing, pausing to get more soap on my fingers, then rubbing some more. I progressively rubbed harder until suddenly, my fingertip was inside him. He raised his head but didn't speak. When I held my finger still for 30 seconds or more, he started to wiggle his rump, working my finger into him. His sphincter clung to my finger with amazing pressure. I wondered how a man had ever penetrated him.
As soon as I realized he was not going to relax, I got us out of the tub, dried off, and onto the bed. I put him on his back and had him hold his legs up. I licked and caressed his stomach, abdomen, his flaccid penis. When I took his cock into my mouth, it began to come to life. I kept working until it had reached its fullest proportions, then gently began rubbing his anus again. Instantly he tensed. I knew this was going to be a long, slow process, and that I might never get him emotionally prepared to fuck.
I vowed to give it my best shot.
I pressed on the back of his thighs to turn his butt upwards a little more, then started to lick him everywhere. Eventually, my focus settled on the tiny opening. My oral caress was tender and gentle, with no inward pressure. When I felt him begin to relax a little, I started to press my tongue against him. I had never considered putting my mouth on anyone's asshole prior to this day, but given the situation and the fact we just emerged from the bath, I had no qualms about it.
He sighed when I was finally able to jab my pointy tongue a little past the barricade of his sphincter. I continued to work him, using my tongue to encourage him to relax. He must have grown impatient because he stretched over to the night stand and grabbed the Vaseline. He said something in a hoarse voice as he handed to me.
My cock ached from being erect for so long. Worse, my balls were beginning to hurt. I knew the ache in my cock would be gone shortly after orgasm, but I wasn't so confident about the ache in my balls. I got a dollop of the petroleum jelly on my finger and gently applied it to his anus. My finger tip penetrated him easily, yet after a second I felt the muscle clamp down. He was conditioned to feel pain at the point of such an intrusion.
As I gently worked my index finger into his rectum, I gazed at his radiant beauty. In the afternoon light, the veins just beneath the surface of his creamy skin at his collarbones were bright blue. His cock, still erect though I hadn't touched it in a long time, was not a miniature version of an adult cock. It was boycock, smooth, supple, slender and straight as an arrow. His foreskin had retracted back so three-quarters of the glans was exposed. The foreskin was red around its lacy edge. His glans was a deeper color, nearly purple. His balls were snug in their tightly ridged sac.
My finger could go from completely outside him to all the way in without any signs of discomfort from him. If I were as noble as I liked, I would have continued with the foreplay until he was comfortable with two fingers inside him. My lust started to wear down my noble intentions. He watched with wide eyes as I smeared copious amounts of Vaseline on my cock.
I brought my face close to his, touch his cheek gently with the hand that had no Vaseline on it, then kissed his nose. Though I knew he didn't understand me, I said, "Trust me." He smiled. I studied his face for any sign of resistance or reluctance and saw none.
I rolled him onto his side and pulled his top leg up, bringing his bent knee into the crook of my arm. I slid into position so my cock touched his butt. He reached down to help guide me to his anus. I kept the glans pressed gently against his anus for a long time. During this time, my tongue explored his ear, cheek and neck. After a while, I felt his sphincter begin to yield. Slowly, I passed the gate and entered his chamber. His sphincter felt like a bodybuilder's clenched fist on my over-aroused cock. His rectum, especially as I claimed more and more of it, was hot. I continued to slide into him as I bit his ear lobe. Vasia's ear lobe was rather round and I liked flicking it across my tongue. I'm sure my breath exploded in his ear. He bit his lower lip and his brow was furrowed with concentration and he lay with closed eyes and submitted to me.
I didn't stop until I could go no further. His soft buttocks pressed against my churning balls. I kissed his cheek again. He turned his head and our lips met. While our tongues danced, I began my slow withdrawal. I only needed an inch or two before I felt compelled to return to the hilt. He grunted when my balls pressed into him once again. It was unclear if his grunt was pleasure or pain. Either way, I was certain he wanted to do what we were doing. I remembered him telling Mickel that he wanted my seed inside him. I knew that would be accomplished within a couple minutes.
I tweaked at his nipple while still holding his leg aloft in the crook of my arm. His groan this time was unambiguously from pleasure. I dropped his leg and brought my hand to his erection, capping and uncapping the glans in time with my shallow and gentle strokes. I reached orgasm way too fast. I had hoped it could last all afternoon.
I got a little frenzied as I emptied my seed into him, then I collapsed as though all my energy had been extracted. When I regained my senses, I kissed him and started to work on his penis again. He grabbed my hand to stop me and I realized that he had already orgasmed. I had been too busy with my own ecstasy to notice his.
We played two more games of chess that evening, and I barely won both. At one point, I was uncertain if he was letting me win, but I really didn't care. Actually, I had hoped he would beat me. I wanted my Vasia to be the world's best at everything.
As we lay in bed that night, his head buried into my arm pit and his gentle snoring providing me with a serenade, I thought about him in a huge industrial, state-run orphanage and I started to weep. Worse, it occurred to me that the man who liked to rape him so hard he pissed himself might have a chance to abuse Vasia again some day.
The next morning Mickel again called to see how things were going and find out if I needed anything.
"I do have a favor to ask. Could you find an interpreter so we can talk with each other?"
"Well, that's a challenge since there needs to be some secrecy about the nature of your relationship with Vasia. I'll look into it and call you back."
"Wait! I don't need someone to interpret for us when we are in bed. I was thinking about someone to accompany us during the day. You told me today is his birthday and I want to help him celebrate."
"Orphans don't celebrate their birthdays."
"This one will. Can you help me?"
"No problem. I'll get back to you soon. If I cannot find an interpreter, I'll cancel my appointments and do it myself."
I decided to let Vasia take the first shower. I needed some time away from him to make phone calls. Then I took my shower. When I came out of the bathroom with the towel held around my waist, I was shocked to see Mickel, a still-naked Vasia, and a woman who was about 30 years old. Mickel said, "Mr. Rand, forgive my intrusion. When Vasia opened the door, I didn't know you were in the shower."
"Uh, hello, Mickel."
"This is Mariah, a woman who went to school in the United Kingdom who speaks pretty good English. She has offered to be your interpreter."
"Glad to meet you, Mariah," I said, trying to hide my embarrassment. "I'd shake your hand, but I don't want to drop my towel."
She laughed. "You need not worry. I've seen many naked men in my life."
"Mickel, perhaps you could ask Vasia to get dressed."
Mariah said, "He is a beautiful little lad. No wonder you are so taken with him. Seems like a shame to cover that beauty with something as vulgar as clothes."
I looked back and forth between them.
Mariah laughed, "I am a professional woman, Mr. Rand. And a long time associate of Mickel's. I know about your relationship with the boy, and I find it neither shocking or immoral. Especially after Vasia here has been singing your praises."
"He likes me?" I asked hopefully.
Mickel laughed. "He worships you."
Mariah said, "I can only stay for a couple of hours, but Mickel thought you might appreciate the chance to talk openly with Vasia regarding your intimacies.
"Great. Tell him I love him and can't bear the thought this is our last day together."
She relayed my message and listened to his reply. Russian is a harsh sounding language to my ears, but Vasia's voice would have shamed a songbird. "Vasia says he doesn't deserve the joy of the past two days and that he would die for you. He said that when his mother died, he thought his heart died with her. You have awakened his heart and it beats for you."
I nearly laughed out loud to hear such courtship from a 10 year old boy. "Tell him I wish him a happy birthday, and ask him want he wants for a birthday present."
Mariah listened to Vasia, then said, "He said he wants you to join with him like you did last night."
I started talking directly to Vasia, knowing Mariah would repeat my words so he could understand them. "I didn't hurt you?"
The child's words in the woman's voice: "Until last night I didn't even know it could feel good."
Mickel excused himself and I went to the bathroom to get dressed.
We walked the square and along the way I bought him a leather necklace with a small turquoise and silver medallion on it. He told me that he couldn't take such a fine gift for someone at the orphanage would steal it from him. Later I paid to have his ear pierced and a small gold hoop put in. Again he told me that someone would steal it from him.
"I know something that no one could steal." I asked Mariah to direct us to a tattoo parlor. We took a cab to a much poorer part of the city. The man showed us pages of examples. I told the boy it must be small and suggested he tattoo his ankle. After looking a hundreds of tattoo ideas, I suggested the yin yang, saying that he and I made a complete circle. He choose to have it put on the inside of his left ankle. He got tears in his eyes as the sweaty man worked, but he didn't complain. Afterwards, as we took the cab back to the nicer part of the city, He kept pulling up the hem on his new blue jeans and gazing at the art work.
We stopped at a restaurant for lunch. Mariah said, "I have to go to work soon. Do you two have anything else to talk about?"
"What sort of work do you do, Mariah?" I asked stupidly.
"I'm a whore," she said with no shame or anger.
After she was gone and we were waiting for room service to bring us dinner, Mickel called again. "Sorry to bother you. Arrangements are made for you to tour the University first thing in the morning. Vasia will need to be back at the orphanage by 8:00 am to be on time for school. I'll come by to get him at 7:00."
"You seem very interested in having me accept this position."
"Don't overestimate my authority. I follow Mr. Kuylik's directions."
"Would you like to be able to tell Mr. Kuylik I accept the position before I even meet him again?"
"Well, that would certainly put me in good standing--"
"Tell me that Vasia can stay with me always, and I'll take the position."
"You've asked the impossible. I can sneak him out on weekends, but the government will never allow an unmarried American to adopt him."
"I'm disappointed."
"You are really fond of the boy."
"More than I could ever express. I would do almost anything to provide for him and watch him grow into adulthood."
"Perhaps there is a way--. Would you consider marrying someone so that you could apply for adoption?"
"How would that work?"
"Say you marry one of our girls, maybe even Mariah. You don't have to live with her. Then you could raise the boy in your University apartment."
"How fast can we work it out?"
"You could be married by the weekend. Adoption normally takes about 3 months, but I know someone who might speed up the process."
"Looks like you've got yourself an American professor."
I hung up the phone before realizing I had no way to tell Vasia that I was going to adopt him. That night he pushed me onto my back, straddled my waist and fucked himself onto my cock. Afterwards, I held him as he cried.
The next morning he was dejected. When Mickel came I asked him to tell the boy about our plans. He advised against it in case something went wrong. Vasia clung to my neck and soaked my collar with his tears. I tried to kiss the tears from his cheek but more replaced them.
For the next three weeks I was haunted by the look of abject despair the boy had on his face as he climbed into Mickel's car. That look would haunt me today were it not for a newer image of Vasia that took its place. It was the look on his face as I walked down the seemingly endless row of beds in the orphanage. I stopped at his bed. He lay on his stomach reading a magazine and did not see Mickel and me approach. In very poor Russian I said, "My darling Vasia."
He looked up with a blank expression, and it seemed to take an eternity for him to register that it was me standing beside his bed. As his face transformed into a radiant smile, Mickel said, "Gather your belongings. Mr. Rand has adopted you and is taking you home right now."
The boy was a vortex of emotions. He began to blubber, unable to rise and hug me. It is that image of Vasia in tears, tears of joy and love, that I carry with me always.
The End
Your eyes make a circle of sky around my soul You blink and I hear the delicate beating of hummingbird's wings. You giggle with the voice of the angels, Your skin is softer than clouds but beneath it I see earthy veins. your too-vivid veins engender my undying love Without these you would be no more real than the cloud-borne throne of God. For all your divine beauty, It is the imperfections that quicken my heart.