Thanks to all of you who took time to respond to the first couple of chapters.
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 be gone.
If you like my writing, links to my other stories on nifty are at the end of the chapter.
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After Max’s mom texted me, I had a hard time concentrating at work. I was anxious about talking to her for fear she would somehow read that I was into her son in ways that she wouldn’t like. Would I slip or say something that might reveal I had a huge wet dream the night before dreaming about her hot son? (I had a great dream about making out with Max while we rubbed our cocks against each other’s naked bodies.)
To get my mind off my anxiousness, I decided to send Max a message on Instagram. “Hey, what’s this I hear about you looking for a mentor of sorts? Does the job pay well? ;)”
He answered back about an hour later and we had a quick conversation via DM.
Max1122: Just got outta school. So you know then huh? My mom will give you some money if we do stuff
Me: I was just joking about the money part silly boy. Sorry, sarcasm isn’t always obvious in text.
Max1122: Haha yeah
About a minute passed and then,
Max1122: So …um…you really might want to spend time with me and stuff?
Me: Who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone as cool as you Max? I’m talking with your mom about it tonight while you’re at the gym
Max1122: Really? Yassssssss!
Me: I assume it will go ok, but I’m sure one of us will let you know later ok! Have fun at practice.
Max1122: OK ;)
As it turns out, there was a horrible wreck on the highway that caused me to be 20 minutes late to the bar where I was supposed to meet Stacy. I texted her to let her know I would be late. When I finally rushed into the pub, I found her in a quiet corner booth looking through her phone, a large mug of beer already 2/3 gone.
“Sorry I’m so late,” I said, loosening my tie as I sat down. “The wreck had traffic snarled. But it’s good to see you again.”
The waitress quickly came to the table and asked if I needed a drink. “Go ahead Craig, I’m buying,” Stacy said.
I scanned the taps at the bar and recognized one of my favorite local brews. “Summit pilsner please,” I said to the waitress.
“Bring me another,” Stacy said as she lifted her mug and guzzled much of what was left. I couldn’t help but to remember my neighbor Lisa’s comment about Stacy sometimes drinking too much. Maybe she was still having issues?
“So,” she began nervously. “You’re really interested in spending time with my Max?”
“Sure,” I said. “He’s a cool kid I think. And ever since our last one left for college, I’ve been looking for something worthwhile to do while my wife works her crazy extra hours. I’ve been thinking about some sort of volunteer work, but this seems more personal, since you guys are friends of a friend and all.”
“Well, Max has his moments, but he is pretty good for the most part. It’s certainly been a rough few months for him and he deserves a break. What the hell did you say to him at new years anyway to make him so enamored with you?”
“Enamored? Wow! Nothing really. I didn’t think it was any big deal.” I knew I couldn’t tell her that Max told me he was gay of course. That was still unknown to her as far as I knew. “I just asked him about how school and gymnastics were going and stuff like that. I did tell him I was sure 2019 was going to be a lot better year for him and he asked if I knew about the stuff with his dad and I told him yes, that you had mentioned the gist of it anyway.”
“Well whatever you did clicked with him. Max doesn’t connect with a lot of people. He’s kind of introverted like that,” she told me.
Our conversation swerved into more details about the accusations against Max’s dad and what was going on with him. He basically had struck a plea deal that would result in him doing a year or two in prison followed by probation and of course the inevitable registry on the sex offenders list. He was due to go away in about a month, which she expected to be difficult on Max, so she was glad I might be a distraction when the time came. In the meantime, he was still seeing his father, though the court mandated it be supervised, so Max only saw him for a few hours at home, which bummed them both out.
She told me about Max and school. He’s a good but not great student, but all his teachers adore him because he doesn’t cause problems and is quiet but nice to everyone. She thinks he’d do better if he had more time to study and do homework, but the amount of time his gymnastics consumes makes it hard for him to get everything done some nights. I had no idea just how good he was at gymnastics, so I was surprised when she told me he is one of the top kids at his age in the multistate region and even in the top 20 nationally. His best events are floor and rings.
The bulk of our conversation ended up being about the drama within the gym for gymnastics. We’d experienced a bit of that with our own kids and their various sports teams, but from what Stacy was telling me, it was nothing like the drama amongst the gymnastics parents. One of the mom’s was having an affair with the guy who owned the gym. Some of the girls bolted last year for a rival gym in the middle of the season. But the biggest drama within Max’s team was with a boy named Cameron Rice who had just moved to Minneapolis about a year ago. The boy apparently came into the gym with a chip on his shoulder. He was the star at his old gym and couldn’t handle the fact that Max was better than him at many things. He and Max got off on the wrong foot and have never gotten along. They’ve finally gotten to the point of quietly tolerating each other.
Cameron’s mom was another piece of work, according to Stacy. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” she told me. Naturally, the relationship between Stacy and Mrs. Rice (Lauren) mirrored that of the boys. They haven’t talked to each other since the first few weeks of last year. Even at invitationals where they should be rooting for each other’s sons so that the team does well, they don’t. “She’s a complete fucking witch,” Stacy said sipping her beer.
Once the news of the allegations against Max’s dad spread through the gym community, things naturally only got worse. Stacy was ignored my many of the parents, or worse, given ‘the stare’. She didn’t know if it was because they didn’t know what to say or if they blamed her for marrying such a creep. Some of them had younger daughters, so they were creeped out that Max’s dad had ever been around them.
“So that’s why you don’t mind missing out on practice to talk to me then?” I asked.
“Oh shit, after 8 years of practicing three to four times a week, I don’t EVER need to stay and watch practice anymore. I was so glad when he was old enough I could leave and get something done.”
Our conversation shifted to logistics stuff for my mentorship with Max. She really hoped I could get him to and from practice on Thursday nights. That was her day for her own weekly therapy session and she had to work late to make up the time. That worked great with my schedule so I heartily agreed. We talked about me spending some time with him on weekend as well – especially once his dad would be ‘away.’
We quickly ironed out details about that before she directed the conversation back to Cameron and Mrs. Rice. I quickly got a picture of who might be causing some of the drama. While Mrs. Rice and Cameron might not be completely innocent, I was quickly getting the picture that Stacy certainly had a role in generating drama. You could tell she was energized by it. She was bitching on and on about the various offensive committed by the Rice’s when her phone on the table buzzed.
“Shit! I lost track of time!” she exclaimed. “Max has been ready to go for like 10 minutes and is miffed.” She showed me his texts.
Where are you?
Mommmmmmmmmmmmm wtf? I’m ready to go! Starving.
She started fishing money out of her wallet to pay for the drinks. I could tell she was a little frantic to get out the door. “Why don’t you relax and finish your beer and let me pick Max up and bring him home? He won’t be angry at me.”
“Oh my god, would you? He’ll be starving and want food.” She pushed a $20 bill towards me.
“Keep it,” I’ll take care of his dinner tonight. “Now where’s the gym?”
On the way to my car, I sent Max a DM on Instagram telling him that I am picking him up and to call me on my cell. I was just turning out of the parking lot when his call came over the Bluetooth in my car.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hey, it’s me,” came the voice on the other end.
“Hi me, how are you,” I answered.
“So funny,” he said sarcastically. “Are you almost here?” he asked, now with a bit of excitement his voice.
“I'm a few minutes away. Drop me a pin so I don’t get lost. I’m in a black BMW.”
“I know! I remember,” he answered. I had forgotten all about pulling into the driveway last summer.
As I drove the last couple miles, I actually felt myself getting giddy with excitement. It reminded me of the anticipation I had the first time I was going on a date, which I guess in a way was kind of appropriate – as a boy lover, this was kind of a date, at least it was to me.
A few minutes later I wheeled up to the door of the gym – a large, plain industrial looking building. Max was running down the stairs before I even came to a stop.
He flung open the door and tossed his bag into the back seat and jumped in, all smiles. He sat back into his leather bucket seat and rubbed his hand all over the dash and seat. “Coooooooool. Effin sweet!” he exclaimed.
“Buckle up Bucko, I hear you’re starving. Where shall we go? Pizza?”
“Oh Craig,” he said sarcastically. I was watching the road but I could visualize him rolling his eyes. “Level 8 gymnasts don’t really eat pizza much. Let’s find someplace with some healthy options.”
“Oh, so like Taco Bell then?” I suggested, barely holding in laughter as I grinned.
He reached over and drove his fist into my thigh. “Ha ha! You’re a regular comedian.”
“Ouch,” I said rubbing my leg, pretending to be serious that he actually hurt me.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t really mean to hit you that hard.”
“Gotcha!” I exclaimed, laughing. “Now tell me where we’re eating. Your choice”
We ended up a local chain restaurant – think Applebee’s but much better, with a similar type of menu. True to his word, Max ordered water to drink and a steak, cooked ‘lite’ with two sides of broccoli. I was impressed with his dedication to staying lean.
“So, I guess you’re saying the pulled pork nachos are out as an appetizer then?” I joked.
“Please don’t even tempt me with those,” he pleaded.
Other than my large draft beer, I tried to stay on the healthy side myself with a grilled chicken wrap. While we waited for our food, we talked all about gymnastics. Time flew by. I never realized how little I knew about the sport. Watching the Olympics every few years wasn’t enough. Max tried to educate me on the various levels and the intricacies of each event, but most of what he was saying went right over my head. The names for all the various tricks was too much to try to learn at once and Max laughed at my inability to understand. He must have recognized my eyes glazing over.
“Well maybe I can watch your practices or competitions and start to figure it out,” I said as our food came. Max was clearly starving as the he appeared to practically inhale his steak. I had to rush to finish my food just to keep up with him. It was still a school night so I didn’t want to keep him out too late.
As we waited for the check to come back, he pulled out his phone and damn, the boy had a full screen of snap chat notifications. “Damn boy, you’re popular!” I told him.
“Not really THAT popular,” he said. “Just mostly messages from a friend,” he said as he unlocked his phone. “I usually answer quickly so he was tripping that I hadn’t answered.” He looked up at me. “I didn’t want to be rude while I was with you so I’ve been ignoring my phone.” I wondered who this friend might be. Someone special? But I decided not to press him.
“Very honored,” I said. “I’ve ignored a few vibrations myself.” Just then the waiter returned with my card. I filled in the tip and added my signature. “Now let’s get you home before your mom starts worrying. I just need to hit the bathroom real quick on the way out. This beer ran right through me.”
“No problem, I need to piss too,” he said as we got up. Oh man! I was suddenly a little excited. Might I get a chance to sneak a peek at Max’s cock in the bathroom? I told myself to not be too hopeful. He’d most likely use a stall. It seemed most boys these days did. If not, there would probably be just one urinal or if there were two, he’d either probably push in really closely to hide my view or there would be those damn partitions.
I was a step ahead of him and pushed the door open hard enough that it allowed him to come in behind me. I couldn’t believe my luck, there were actually a pair of urinals along the wall and no dividers. Now if only Max weren’t a stall user or a urinal humper, I might get a glimpse of his boyhood.
I sidled up to the left urinal. Assuming Max was right handed, that would give me a more unobstructed view – that is again if he even used the urinal. The bright yellow Calvin Klein trunks I had on didn’t have a fly, so I had to undo my fly and push them down to access my equipment. I thought to myself that I would without a doubt be giving Max a clear view at my own dick.
Apparently Max is not a modest child, because he pulled right up beside me, letting out a loud belch as he stepped up to the urinal. “Oooh, excuse me. That broccoli made me burp,” he said as he pushed down the front of his sweats, shorts and red underwear. I could just make out his actions from the corner of my eye.
His talking to me gave me a perfect excuse to turn towards him without seeming creepy. “Well, it’s gonna probably make you fart tomorrow,” I joked as I glanced his way. My eyes almost popped out of my head as I glanced down. He was making no attempt at getting close to the urinal and his 13 year old boy cock was on perfect display, hanging out over the waistbands of his underwear and shorts. I had to force myself to turn back to the front, but I managed to glance sideways. His cock was perfection! It was about 3” long, cut, and perfectly smooth from shaft to tip. His stream of piss was thick and forceful. On my third sideways glance, I tried to look for pubes, but saw none – which surprised me because I knew he surely had to have them by now. Did he shave perhaps? Damn.
As my bladder slowly drained (as it always has, which has been nice in situations like this), I glanced a final time I swear I could see his face looking left, towards me…and my own dick! I was doing nothing to hide it from view. If he wanted to look, I wasn’t going to stop him. I wasn’t going to say anything of course, just let him have an eyeful.
“Ah much better,” I said as I zipped up.
“Yes,” he said, letting out another loud burp and laughing. “Sorry,” he said.
“It’s fine Max. It’s kind of funny actually,” I said. I dried my hands and rubbed his thick hair. “Let’s go.”
As we drove, I couldn’t get his perfect cock out of mind. Maybe being a mentor to such a hot boy and controlling my urges would be harder than I though. I couldn’t believe I had managed to get a good view of his penis the first time we were together. I’ve spent numerous days with Jackson and Noah (the neighbor lads) and been on vacations with them, and I still couldn’t even tell you the first thing about their privates.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket and handed it to Max as I drove. “What am I suppose to do with this?” he asked.
“Well, you can add yourself as a contact so I can text you like normal people do,” I said.
“It’s locked,” he said.
“3744,” I told him.
“Hey, same as your garage code!”
“You remembered that?” I asked him. “From new year’s.”
“Trust me, I remember everything about that night,” he said, smiling at me.
“Nice,” I said. I glanced over as I watched him add his name and phone number into my contacts.
“I’m going to text myself so I have your number,” he said. After he did that I watched as he opened my Snapchat and found my screen name. “I’m going to add you on snap too if that’s ok. I use that more than anything and you can see my stories and stuff.”
“Just don’t get me mixed up with whomever your sending shirtless selfies too,” I joked and then about wanted to kick myself for even mentioning something like that.
He put my phone back in the center console. “I won’t, don’t worry,” he said and then paused. “And besides, I think you already saw my dick back there in the bathroom.”
Oh fuck! He noticed me looking. I’m fucking dead. I couldn’t admit that to him though, not sure what exactly he thought he saw. “Huh? I did not! I mean I guess I kind of saw it but I didn’t really look close. I didn’t expect you to have it whipped out in plain sight like that. But it’s not like I could give you a real description.” (No Max… I couldn’t tell you anything about your perfectly smooth 3” soft cock with its slightly pink head that is seemingly pubeless somehow and pisses like a cannon.)
“Whatever Craig, I don’t care. I mean were both dudes.” Whew. I breathed a little sigh of relief. “Besides, I think I saw yours too so were even.”
“Max! What the heck man? I hope you don’t go around telling everyone you look at their dicks.”
“I don’t. Geez! Don’t be stupid. And relax, it’s not like I’m freaking gonna tell anyone I looked at your dick.”
“Well that’s good! Can we talk about something besides our dicks now?” I was desperate to change the topic.
“Yeah sure. Sorry,” he answered. But neither of us spoke for several seconds.
“Craig, you’re not mad are you?”
“No.” I was worried about being discovered, not angry. “I thought you were.”
He laughed. “No. I thought you were.”
As we had been talking we had made it all the way to the exit near both of our houses. “Great. Now that we’ve established that neither of us are angry, you can tell me how to find your house from here,” I said.
“Ok,” he said, suddenly sounding solemn. “But I wish I could hang out with you longer. This was fun.”
“That’s nice of you Max. I feel the same way. Maybe this weekend we could see a movie or something,” I suggested.
“Yes! There’s a new marvel movie out. Do you like marvel stuff?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, giving him a high five.
We soon pulled up to his house. As he reached behind the seat to grab his bag, he threw an arm loosely across my chest and gave me a gentle hug. “Thanks Craig. See ya,” he said. I watched him walk to the door and slip inside before starting to back out.
As I slipped the car into drive, I pulled up my phone and looked at the text he had sent me when he added himself to my phone. I laughed. He had added himself as “Max Da Beast”. The text message just said “You rock!” I drove home as happy as I’d been in a long time.
I got home and filled my spouse in on the evening, leaving out the mutual meat gazing at the urinal part of course. “It’s so good that you are helping Max out,” she told me. I was tired and immediately started getting ready for bed. I plugged my phone in on the nightstand while I went to brush my teeth and wash my face.
When I crawled into bed, I checked it real fast. I had a slew of messages. Texts from Stacy and snaps from Max.
I opened the text’s first. My heart sank when I read the first one from Max’s mom. “What the hell did you do to my kid?” it said. But quickly I realized she was being sarcastic when I read the second one. “He’s bouncing up and down with happiness. I haven’t seen him like this in months. Whatever you did…thank you. It’s good to have my boy back again.”
I sent her a quick note back. “We just talked and joked around. He tried to explain gymnastics, but it went over my head.”
I switched over to read the Snapchat from Max. It was just a picture of him – a selfie of his mostly face holding up a peace sign. The message just said “goodnight” across the snap. You could see just enough to tell he was shirtless. I imagined him getting out of the shower, that supple cock resting on his jewels. My cock began to stiffen. I sent him a text only snap back “goodnight Max. or should I say Max Da Beast????”
He quickly sent me back a line of the crying laughing face emojis.
In the meantime, Max’s mom had texted me back.
“If you just talked, you must be the teenage boy whisperer! Max is usually SO quiet. You’ll figure out gymnastics in time. Have a great night. Thanks again.”
I answered back. “Max? Quiet? Are we talking about the same kid?? Have a good night yourself.”
I put my phone back on the nightstand and slipped my hand inside my underwear and stroked my cock as I thought about Max and his perfect cock. After I had blown a creamy load into a triple layer of Kleenex and flushed them down the toilet, I started to feel guilty. Was I really already obsessing over him after just one night of hanging out? Should I be doing this? I reminded myself of my promise not to cross the line with Max. I reassured myself that I could do it – after all, I’d never given in to temptation…yet.
Continued feedback and ideas appreciated (firstname.lastname@example.org).
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