Max’s Freudian Slip

Chapter #2

by craigpnifty888@gmail.com

 

Author’s Notes:

Thanks to all of you who took time to respond to the first chapter.   I got a better response than I expected, especially given the first chapter was absent any ‘interesting parts’.

 This is the fictional account of a relationship that develops between a man and a teenage boy.  It might involve some sex at some point (wink), so if that sort of thing offends you, then maybe you should go read something else.

If you desire a super quick sex story to wank to, this is probably not your cup of tea.   (Check out my Trey and Uncle Bill story which is more suitable for that – in addition to being a good story – link at the end).

If you like my writing, links to my other stories on nifty are at the end of the chapter.

Have you supported nifty with a donation recently?  If not, please consider doing so!

 

Chapter 2 - Arrangements

I will get to the content of the message from Max’s therapist in a minute.  But first I need to back up.   I eluded a couple times in chapter 1 that Max had endured a rough year leading up to the New Year’s Eve party at our neighbors.  I need to explain.

Max’s parents split up last year.   Now, that is certainly not unusual these days, though it is still typically rough on the children.  It was WHY they split up that made it even tougher on Max……

I came home from work one day last summer - I think it was in July.   As I drove towards our house, I saw that Noah and Max were shooting hoops in my driveway.    This was ok - all the kids on our street knew that we were ok with them using our goal.   I never mind having kids around (naturally).  The sound of kids playing is truly like music to my ears.   And occasionally, like that day, it provides a bit of eye candy. It was warm enough that Noah and Max had tossed their t-shirts on the grass and were playing in just their shorts.

I honked the horn as I approached to get their attention and they both stepped aside so I could pull my BMW into the garage.    I of course went back out to talk to the boys.   “Hey Noah, how’s it going?   Hey Max, haven’t seen you in a while.”

Noah waved.  Max was more talkative.  “Hi Mr. Peters!   Cool car!”

“Thanks Max.”  I had just gotten it a few months before and it was pretty sharp.  “Maybe I can give you a spin in it sometime.  You hanging with Noah today?”

“Yeah, my rents had…um…stuff they had to take care of,” he answered, looking down.  As we talked I looked his muscular body up and down.  His 12 year old frame was chiseled perfection.   Drops of perspiration rested on his well defined pecs.  I tried not to stare as I looked lower, where the ripples of well developed abdominal muscles bulged around his shallow belly button.  The beginning of the v-line led to the waistband of his American Eagle underwear, which was barely visible below his black Nike shorts.  As he moved about, I tried to make out if there was any bulge in his shorts but didn’t see much other than a slight bump. 

Noah was wearing white shorts, so his bump was a little more pronounced.  I quickly excused myself to go change clothes.  I was beginning to sweat and wanted to get my shirt and tie off, plus I was afraid I was starting to bone up looking at the two shirtless boys.  I also wanted to get the yard mowed and wanted to knock it out before dinner.

When I came back out, I shot the ball around with Noah and Max for a couple minutes.  I couldn’t resist putting off the mowing a while longer enjoying the view of two sweaty boys.   After about 10 minutes of hoops, Noah’s mom’s SUV came down the street and I ended up in their driveway, just exchanging small talk with her.    “You want a beer?” she offered after a couple minutes.  “This was a long day, I need one,” she said.

Beer trumps mowing anytime and we were soon sitting in the shade of their front porch enjoying a cold beer.   We hadn’t been sitting long when Max’s mom pulled into the driveway.  I actually had never met either of Max’s parents so when Stacy came up the walk, Lisa quickly introduced me before the two of them started talking.

Eavesdropping on their conversation was awkward, as they quickly got into the topic of Max’s dad moving out of the house and some of the logistics of their break-up.  This was the first I knew that his parents were divorcing – like I said, I had only met Max.   I tried to mostly pay attention to my phone while working on my beer.    As soon as it was empty I planned to excuse myself.

But then their conversation went off the rails.  All of sudden they were talking about prosecutors, defense lawyers, supervised visits and “the other families.”  It was becoming quite apparent that Max’s dad had done something seriously wrong.

Stacy looked at me.  “You’re probably wondering what we’re talking about.  Well, I’ll tell you.   After being married almost 16 years I found out my husband is a fucking pedophile!”

“What?” I exclaimed - trying to appear shocked at such a thing could exist in upper middle class suburbia.  “How the hell?”   I also immediately wondered if Max was involved.  Could it be?  An incestuous pervert dad?

“Yeah, well our best friend’s daughter told on him.   He’s apparently been molesting here since she was 10.”

“And how old is she now?”

“Just 11.  Can you fucking believe it?  10 years fucking old!” Stacy whined.

Lisa (Noah’s mom) explained more.   “They were close families just like ours are.   They vacationed together like we do & they know each other’s access and alarm codes and everything like that.”

“Jesus Christ,” I exclaimed.  My heart was racing and I was trying to remain calm.   The parallels were eerily uncanny.   Max’s dad and I certainly had some commonalities.   He had used a bond with another family to get close the object of his sordid desires.   There were two big differences between him and I though.  One, he apparently preferred young girls and secondly, was unable to keep his desires under control.  (I’d always checked myself).   “So, Max wasn’t …um…involved?” I asked after an awkward silence.

“NO!  Thank God!   But he knows all about it now.  His therapist said it would be better to just get it all out on the table for him.”

“He’s actually handling it amazingly well,” Lisa added.  “He’s always been a tough independent kid.  I remember when Noah was over at their house playing when he was 9 or 10 and crashed his scooter and skinned up his leg really badly.  It was Max who took care of cleaning the wound and patching him up.”

“Yeah, his therapist is really impressed with him,” Stacy said.  “I think being so serious about gymnastics has given him some inner strength.”

“It’s probably a good distraction too,” I added.

“For certain,” his mom replied.

“Well, I really need to go mow the yard,” I said standing up.   “I’m sorry to hear about what you’re going through.  I hope happier days are ahead for you.   And Max.  Thanks for the beer Lisa!”

As I walked balk across to my yard, I couldn’t help but to feel sadness for Max.  What a horrible thing for a 12 year old boy to go through!   I also had a pit in my stomach.  The guilt of my own predilections was also suddenly weighing on me.  Thank god I’d never done anything that could have put my own family in the position that Stacy and Max were now in.   I wanted so badly to go give Max a hug and let him know someone else cared about him – but the fact was we really barely knew each other.  He would probably be embarrassed if he knew that I knew about his situation.

As I mowed the yard, my mind dwelt on the whole situation and the amazing parallels with my own relationships with Jackson and Noah.   It served as a great reminder that no matter what, there is a line that cannot be crossed.

Months later and that line would get fuzzy.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

When the direct message from Max’s therapist came through, I almost didn’t even read it.   Most of the time when a stranger sends you a message or follows you on Instagram, it is spam.   Half the time I don’t even look at the profile before deleting the message and blocking the sender.  Thankfully, this time I actually read the message.

His therapist is a middle age woman by the name of Janice Jones.   Her profile picture was a professional looking headshot.   She was actually decent looking, with straight dark hair and a nice face.   Anyway, the message began:

Mr. Peters:  Please accept my apologies for contacting you via Instagram, but it was the only way I had to connect.   I am a therapist and one of my clients is Max Coleman, whom I understand you talked with recently at a New Year’s party.

At this point, I was actually getting a little nervous.  Call it boy love paranoia I guess, but I couldn’t fathom what she was contacting me about.   I read on:

I wanted to take a moment to thank you for how you handled the situation with Max when he revealed his sexuality.  In our session today, Max told me about your conversation and even showed me the short chat you had on Instagram (which is how I got your ID).

 One key factor affecting the mental health of LBTQ youth is the reaction of the first person that they tell about their sexuality.   When someone is as accepting and positive as you were, it gives them a positive experience to lean back on as they decide to reveal themselves to others.  So I just wanted to say Bravo to you Mr. Peters!   You have no idea how much your kindness that night could mean to Max.

Sincerely, Jan Jones LCSW

Wow!   I had all but concluded that Max had forgotten about our talk and moved on.   But apparently that was clearly not the case.   I had a warm feeling inside. It’s always nice to know that something you did helped someone else.   And for me, that feeling amplifies x5 when a boy is involved.   I typed back a quick response:

Mrs.  Jones – Wow!  Thanks for the note.  I almost didn’t read it thinking it was spam.  My talk with Max was really no big deal.  I’ve always believed kids should be allowed to be themselves, whatever that may entail.   Whenever there are news stories about bullied kids taking their own lives it always saddens and angers me -so I am glad to have been of a little help to Max.  I don’t know him extremely well but I’ve always thought he was a pretty awesome kid.   I know he’s had a rough few months and I am glad to have provided a positive moment for him.  – Craig

I assumed that was basically the end of the saga with Max.   I had done something nice, he appreciated it and I got a nice note from his therapist.  So I was shocked when another reply came the following morning:

Mr. Peters – I am very glad that got my message and replied.  You mentioned Max’s rough year, so I assume that you might be aware of some of the things he is dealing with (though I obviously can’t discuss them with you directly). 

My original note had another purpose beyond merely thanking you, though that was definitely in order.   Max and I have been talking in recent sessions about a need that he has currently for a positive male role model in his life.   He unfortunately doesn’t have any options locally with family or friends.  When we talked about it again this week, Max could not stop talking about you.  You apparently made quite an impression on him.  (He also hears a lot of great things about you and your family from his best friend that lives near you.)  To quote Max, “Craig would be lit!”

I have no idea whether you would have interest in entering into a mentoring type relationship with Max, but I told him that I would try to probe you to find out.  Please do not feel pressured in any way.  The last thing Max needs right now is for someone to NOT follow through with a commitment to him. 

Sincerely, Jan Jones LCSW

I knew before I even finished reading the last couple of lines that this is something I was going to do.  Since our youngest daughter left for college, I had been looking for something to fill my time anyway.   The chance to make a difference in the life of a boy was not something I could pass up.   The fact that the boy was incredibly hot was of little consequence (honest!).

Jan left me her email address as well so we could communicate more professionally.  As much as I wanted to email her back screaming “Yes! Yes! Yes! For the love of god Yes! I’d love to!” - I refrained.   I wanted to make sure I didn’t appear too eager (that boy-lover paranoia again) and I wanted to make sure I thought through any pitfalls.   The big one that came to mind was having to deal with Max’s mom.  I really knew very little about her, other than that she was a friend of Lisa’s – and that at least was probably a good sign.

That night I planned to see if I could bounce the idea off of Lisa and make sure there wasn’t anything I should be afraid of (specifically: bat shit crazy mom).   As luck would have it, she was walking their dog when I got home.   It took some creativity to explain how the whole thing came about without divulging Max’s secret, but I managed to play up the “Noah talks about me a lot I guess” angle as well as telling her Max confided some personal feeligs (I left it vague) to me on New Year’s.    She told me that Stacy was a great person but that her husband drank too much and occasionally she had gotten pulled into that with him.  She thought she was doing better with him now out of the picture.    Her closing statement before she went inside, “Oh my god Craig, you’d be amazing with Max.   You should so do it.”

I was sold.  After dinner I banged out an email to Jan telling her I was interested, depending on what all was involved and asking what the next steps should be.  I did my best not to try to sound too eager.

I got a short email back from her the next day saying she would talk to Max and Stacy and if they were both okay with moving forward she would have Stacy contact me directly to work out details.   She asked for my cell which I promptly provided.

Things moved quickly from there.   Lisa texted me two days later that Stacy had called her asking more about me.  She promised me that she told her lots of good things.    That afternoon I got a text from Stacy wondering if we could meet and talk that night while Max was at gymnastics practice.   She suggested a bar near the gym where Max practices.  

I couldn’t believe it – this was actually probably going to happen!   What a bizarre situation I was placing myself in, given what had happened with his father last summer.   If only his mom knew that I was fighting the same demons as her ex-husband.   I swore to myself that I would never do anything with Max that would lead to her eyes being opened.  It would undoubtedly be more than she could handle - not to mention how it could affect Max.

It would be a while, but Max would have other ideas.

 

 In the next chapter: Stacy pours out her soul to me over a drink and tells me all about Max… and Max and I finally get to spend some time together.

Continued feedback appreciated (craigpnifty888@gmail.com). Was the twist with Max’s dad being a perv too much? Hope the ongoing lack of gratuitous sex isn’t turning anyone away.  

Also – if there is anyone that knows much about youth gymnastics, I’d love to pick your brain.  That will become part of this story and I want to make it realistic.

 

My other nifty stories:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/trey-uncle-bill-and-me.html

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/los-gallos-resort/

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/resort-tales/