Date: Sat, 10 Feb 2018 03:27:46 -0500 From: jayjonsmith547 Subject: Jack's Sanctuary - Part 1 This is the first part of what may become a longer story. This is completely fictional, and makes no reference to any particular person. Do not read this story if you are offended by erotic gay fiction, or if it is illegal to do so. Comments are welcome if you desire. If you haven't already, donate to Nifty. If you have, thank you, and do it again if you can. Jack's Sanctuary - Part 1 Jack had lived in a downtown high rise apartment all his life. However, his desire was to live in a normal house like the ones he had always seen on TV. On his 12th birthday Jack got the biggest surprise from his mom. She was promoted at her job, and they were moving to a new home in the suburbs. Jack had readjusted well to his new surroundings. He spent the first month setting up his belongings in his room, and exploring what it was like to have a back yard he could actually hang out and run around in. School had just let out for the summer, and he had not yet noticed any other kids around his age in the neighborhood. Bored of messing around in a big yard by himself, he would set out to explore on his own. Now living in the last subdivision right on the edge of town, he was able to walk out of civilization everyday. Roughly 3 miles from his street, over a small hill and through a dense patch of forest, Jack would find himself in a completely foreign environment. There he wondered into a small field with super green wild grass that came up to just below his waist. The clearing was surrounded by forest on all sides, and every time he walked into the spot he felt like the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees. This was amazing since the summer temperatures were already in the high 90's. The city sounds all but melted away, and at first Jack found the silence almost eerie. Since all he had ever known was concrete and one small patch of grass in the courtyard of his apartment building, this quickly became Jack's favorite place to hide out. He had never seen anyone, or even traces of anyone in his little sanctuary. He would spend hours laying in the grass under a tall shade tree on the far corner of the clearing. The tree was so perfect looking, it almost seemed out of place. He would pack his backpack with enough snacks and water, books, and his iPad. He was able to get enough LTE signal to browse the web, or play online games. Sometimes he would lie on the cool grass staring up that the sky just to watch the different cloud patterns, and he would drift off to sleep.Monsoon season was in full swing. So by two or three in the afternoon, downpours were inevitable. Jack knew that if he were going to make the daily trek to his spot, he would have to do it in the mornings to make the most of his time there. However, he had slept in a little longer this morning due to a late night chat session with some random guy, talking about puberty. He had found a website that would let him put in code words, and match him with a random person using the same code word. Like most 12-year-old boys, puberty was something almost always on the front of his mind, so that was his code word. Getting bored quickly, most of the time his chats were short, sharing details like their age, and what he looked like. Then getting into small details about where they were in their own personal development. Jack felt like he was a little further behind most of his friends, so he was very interested in how far along others his age were in their development. His voice had begun to deepen, and he had noticed that his testicles were becoming larger. He stood about 4'9" tall, and had a lean athletic body. He kept his dirty blonde hair nearly always styled, with shaved sides, but long on the top and swooping to the left side of his face. He had spent most summers playing soccer, but due to the move, his mom had missed the deadline to signup. His chat this time was a little more detailed since he connected with an older teen that made him feel good about himself, and reassured him of his development. By the time he headed out the door it was already close to noon. When he made it to his favorite spot under the tree, the sky was overcast, and the air had the distinctive sweet smell of rain. He had thoughts of turning around to go back home, but after he sat down his mind quickly went to the semi erotic chat he had the night before. Jack was a typical preteen who was in the full grasp of puberty, so masturbation was a daily thing, usually a multiple times each day. He had become accustomed to lying in the grass, pulling down his soccer shorts and boxer briefs, and tugging on his erect boyhood until orgasm. Today was no different, so he sat down getting right to business. Lost in own thoughts, he brought himself right to the edge. Then he shot what had recently become his typical 3 watery spurts of semen, typical of a boy who had just started to cum, that ran down the backside of his left hand. Once he caught his breath, he looked up to realize it had started to sprinkle. He wiped the semen onto his lower abdomen, pulled up shorts and rushed to gather his belongings. Jack started to run through the grass, across the open part of the field, but made it only about half of the way across before the sprinkle turned into a downpour. Making it to the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing from his tree, he took shelter under a group of shrubs, and pulled his worn Volcom hoodie over his head. The huge downpour lasted about 30 min, leaving him sitting on a smashed down bed of grass halfway in a small puddle. As the rain subsided, Jack stood up noticing he was completely saturated. As he stepped down on each foot, streams of water sprayed in all directions from the holes in his shoes. He couldn't help but audibly giggle to himself. Jack moved to a flat rock sitting down to drain his shoes, and wring the water out of his socks. He stood up and pulled off his hoodie, it was so drenched that Jack was unaware he was also pulling off his shirt at the same time. He wrung out as much of the water as he could, then tossed the clothes onto the rock he had been sitting on. Spooked, Jack realized for the first time since he had been coming to this spot, he was hearing something different than he ever heard before. The sound made him freeze. He could tell it was a motor of some kind, but didn't think it sounded like a car. Thankfully the sound was on the far side of the clearing, but as it got louder, he realized it was getting closer. He snatched his backpack off the ground, and started to run into the trees the direction of his house. Curiosity got the best of him so he stopped, and crept back to the edge of the clearing to look again. The sound he was hearing had stopped, but in the distance he could now see he was no longer alone. About 75 yards in front of him stood a man, who had dismounted his white and blue dirtbike, and was now walking around under the same tree Jack had claimed as his own. He was unable to make out any details, other than dark brown hair. He could not tell the age of the man, but figured he was somewhere in his 20's. At that moment Jack realized in his haste, he never grabbed his shirt or hoodie off the rock. He figured he was about 20 feet away from where he made shelter from the rain. So he slowly made his way over, keeping an eye on the man, and hiding himself from sight in the trees. He scrambled around, but ultimately he was unable to find his clothes. The last thing he want to do was be caught shirtless and wet, so he decided to make his trek back home, figuring he would go back the next morning to retrieve his misplaced items. He took one last look across the clearing at the man, who was oddly kneeling next to his favorite tree. Unable to tell what the man was doing, he turned and rushed home.The following morning Jack was up earlier than normal. He wanted to get up to his spot and retrieve his shirt and hoodie, but had no intention of staying any longer than he had to. Once his mom left for work, he waited for her car to be out of sight and started down the path he was accustomed to. The early morning humidly was thick, thanks to overnight storms, and once he was off the concrete his path was more muddy than he was used to. He was determined to make the trek quickly so he upped his pace to a slow jog, finding it harder to run as the mud collected on the sole of his shoes. He reached the tree line and walked his way to the clearing. He had gone over the incidents of the previous afternoon, and figured this time he knew exactly where to go to find his clothes. He walked around for about 3 minutes before realizing he was standing right at the rock where he had laid his clothes, but they were not there. The missing items gave him an uncomfortable feeling, which only got worse when he realized there were two sets of tracks in the mud. He could make out his Adidas shoe markings, and all around were a second set of tracks. He could tell they were from older shoes, because there were worn flat tread markings other than half a Nike symbol right in the middle. He stepped into one of the shoe marks and noticed it was about 2 inches longer than his size 8's. He wanted to leave back home, but for an unexplained reason decided to walk across the field to his tree. As he walked up to the tree he looked down at the spot where he normally sat. Laying on the patch of smashed down grass was his shirt and hoodie. He knew they had intentionally been placed there, because they were each nicely folded almost like you would find new clothes on a rack in the mall. Jack was completely unsure of what to make of the situation. He finally decided to take his clothes under his arm, and walked the path back home. He spent most of the day sitting in his room watching television, while feeling almost violated that his sanctuary had been found. That evening when his mom got home, she was tired and not in a particularly good mood. He had neglected his chores, so he was getting a pretty good tongue lashing. To escape, he grabbed the full bag of trash and walked out the back door. He went around the corner of the house, and lugged the bag into the large trash dumpster. He was in mood to continue the argument with his mom, so he sat on a patio chair in the backyard looking at the clouds. Just then in the distance he could hear that distinctive sound of a dirtbike. He figured it was going down one of the streets in his neighborhood, maybe the next block over. He listened until other cars finally downed out the sound of the dirtbike motor, and he could no longer hear it. He made the decision it was too risky to go back to the clearing, for at least a couple days.