Max’s Freudian Slip - Chapter #5
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, so if that sort of thing offends you, move along.
Thanks to all for the continued feedback. I hope those who are still reading this aren’t losing patience with the lack of sex. I do plan some eventually, but this story is as much about the building of a sincere man-teen relationship as it is about sex.
If you like my writing, links to my other stories on nifty are at the end of the chapter. Some of those get into sexual escapades much more quickly.
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Chapter 5 – Mrs. Rice & Cameron
One of the perks of picking Max up from gymnastics was that I often arrived early and was able to watch Max and his teammates practice. There were many more girls in the gym than boys and while it was interesting watching the more advanced girls perform on the balance beam, my attention was naturally drawn primarily to the boys. I wondered if Max’s dad did just the opposite – spying on young girls in leotards in search of immature camel toes.
There were six boys on the advanced team with Max. Two were older teens, neither of which was especially good looking, though both were extremely well sculpted. Once the guys got warmed up, it wasn’t rare for them to toss their t-shirts aside and practice in just a pair of loose gymnastics shorts. So it was common to get a good look at their impressive six packs. Having been through puberty already, the older guys muscles were much more defined.
There were two younger boys as well, both around 11 years old and unlike the older two, both of the younger guys were very cute. (Maybe it’s just that I am not as attracted to older teens as I am to younger ones and boys on the cusp of puberty?) One of the 11 year olds had a milky complexion and reddish hair. The other had jet black hair and freckles. For their sizes, they were both impressive acrobats. Being lighter, they tended to get a lot of height on their flips and such. They were just getting to the age that I find really attractive, so I managed to mentally disrobe them on multiple occasions while spectating.
The other two boys on their top level team were Max and Cameron, the boy that his mom had told me all about when we had met for drinks several weeks ago. Cameron and Max actually looked quite alike. They had similar heights and builds, but Cameron’s ass seemed to be a little rounder than Max’s. They both had blonde hair but Cameron’s mop was trimmed much shorter than Max’s. Max’s hair, while it had been cut, still stuck up from the top of his head in a wave a good 3 inches long. Cameron’s blond hair was trimmed short all over, with just a small flip in the front that was longer. I though Cameron was every bit as good looking as Max. In fact, If I had to rate them, I’d say Cameron would actually come out ahead on my boy-lover hot-boy-rating-scale. I actually preferred his more conservative hair cut over Max’s wild do and damn, the boy’s ass was amazing!
If you recall, Stacy had told me that Max and Cameron loathed each other. Cameron had moved to the twin cities a year ago and came to his new gym with a massive chip on his shoulder. He and Max butted heads immediately and according to Stacy at least, it was ugly for a while. She had told me that they allegedly had gotten to the point of tolerating each other, but only after being pressured to get along by the coaches. The funny thing is, as I watched them practice Max and Cameron actually seemed to get along well beyond ‘just tolerating each other’. They were often paired for various practices and it seemed to me they were more often than not smiling and laughing. It also wasn’t rare for them to high-five each other when one or the other pulled off a really tough move. I had asked Max once about Cameron, but he blew me off with an ‘Eh, he’s ok.’
It was the last Thursday in February and I had been watching Max’s practice off and on the entire night. I had brought in my laptop and was getting some work finished that had to be wrapped up by the next morning. One of the downsides of leaving early to pick up Max on Thursdays was that I sometimes ended up having to stay up late once I got him home to finish up the work I missed. When I learned the gym had a wi-fi network setup for the parents, I started doing some work there while he practiced. I found if I sat on a step of the bleachers I could set my laptop on the seat in front of it to create a makeshift desk.
It was a tough atmosphere to get things done in as the background noise was often significant, but after a few weeks I had learned to tune it out. I had a lot to do that night, but it was easy work, so I was still able to watch Max and the other boys plenty. I don’t know what had gotten in to Max and Cameron on this particular night, but it seemed they were laughing at something off and on the whole night. You could even see them grabbing their stomachs sometimes they were laughing so hard. It seemed obvious to me that whatever animosity the two of them had a year ago was gone.
I was just getting back into my work when I noticed a well-dressed busty woman stroll into the gym. I had seen a few of the parents before and had even talked to both mom’s of the younger boys, but I had not seen this lady before. She immediately struck me as a pretentious snob. Her clothes looked expensive, her jewelry was overdone, her boobs looked fake and I was pretty sure her blond hair was not natural. She walked in like she owned the place. Maybe I was making assumptions, but I swear I even saw a couple parents turn to avoid her. I couldn’t help to wonder if this was Cameron’s mom. Everything about the woman fit Stacy’s description of Cameron’s mom to a T.
She sat down about 10’ to my left and got her phone out and was thumbing through it with her meticulously manicured French nails. I couldn’t help but to watch her out of the corner of my eye. Shortly after she arrived she gave Cameron a wave, letting her know she was there. So I was right, it was the infamous Mrs. Rice!
As I continued to watch the boys practice, I couldn’t help but notice the difference in how the boys interacted after her arrival. They were barely talking now and there was definitely no laughter. They even seemed unnaturally cold to each other. I found my eyes dancing back and forth, between the boys and Cameron’s mom - as she alternated her attention between Cameron and her phone. I was trying to decipher the psychology of it all.
When the boys took their final break, Max came jogging over to me with his phone. “Hey Craig, can you plug my phone in? It’s about dead,” he said, handing it to me over the railing. I climbed down and took it from him and as I turned back to go sit down, it was obvious that Mrs. Rice was practically staring at me.
I had just sat down and plugged Max’s phone into my portable charger, when I noticed Mrs. Rice making her way over toward me in her fancy heels. It was almost funny watching her try to navigate the metal bleachers in expensive narrow heels. “Hello there, I’m Jeanine Rice. My son is Cameron – the other blond boy. You are here with Max?” she said extended her hand. So not only is she pretentious but apparently she’s a nosy bitch too.
I stood up. My first impression was not favorable, but I didn’t figure being rude would do anyone any good. “Hello yes, I’m Craig. Craig Peters. I’m his chauffeur tonight. Well every Thursday that is. I’ve been helping out his mom for a few weeks now. Your son, Cameron is it? He’s very impressive. He’s really good on the rings.” I just knew she was the type to eat up any flattery of her son.
“Why yes he is. It’s so nice of you to say,” she answered. I looked across the gym to Max who was looking back at me talking to Mrs. Rice. He was giving me a dirty look. “Now are you and Mrs. um…. Miss Coleman, um, dating or something?” she asked with a smirk.
“No, no,” I answered, waving my hand. “Nothing like that. I –“
“Oh silly me. I see your wedding ring now,” she said. Right…. you’d been eyeing me already and I’m sure you picked that out long ago. She was so fake! “An uncle then?” she asked.
“No, listen, ma’am, I am just a friend. We both have some very good mutual friends. It’s a bit of a long story, but I’ve volunteered to help get Max around some just to give his mom a break.”
“That’s so nice. Yes, I feel so bad for his mother,” she said placing a hand on my shoulder. “What a horrible thing to go through! Your spouse a ….a… well you know. The poor dear.” Her feigned empathy was almost too much. I had to look away and roll my eyes.
“Yes. Well sometimes it takes a village,” I responded.
“It sure does. I do wish she had asked. We could have helped get Max home too.” Oh right!!! Man she pours it on thick!
“Well, I am sure more opportunities might arise. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do need to finish up an email or two.”
“Certainly Mr. Peters. Craig. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
As she made her way back to her original perch, I breathed a sigh of relief. My god she was a piece of work!
When practice was over Max packed up quickly and jogged over to me, anxious to get his phone back. “Let’s go. I’m starving,” he said. I quickly packed up my laptop and slipped on my coat and worked my way down off the bleachers.
“Goodnight Mr. Peters,” yelled Mrs. Rice. When I turned she gave me a little wave and a broad phony smile. “It was so nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I mumbled as I quickly followed Max out the door.
As I sat into my driver’s seat, I exclaimed, “Well, THAT was sure interesting.”
“My mom calls her the evil witch.”
“She warned me about her, but wow, nothing could have prepared me for that. She’s a true piece of work.”
“Yeah,” Max said solemnly, looking down, suddenly melancholy.
“Can you imagine if that was your mom? Yikes! Poor Cameron.”
“Yeah. She gets on Cam’s nerves a lot,” he answered.
Wait. He called him Cam? Not Cameron? I’d never heard him referred to by anything except Cameron. The coaches call him Cameron and his mom did too. But he’s Cam to Max? How interesting. “You know, I noticed you and Cameron, Cam, seem to get along pretty well for guys who hate each other.”
“Who said we hate each other?” he responded sharply.
“Your mom gave me the scoop about how it was rough when he first moved to town.”
“Oh my god!” he said with disgust, smacking his hand on the console. “That was SOOOOOOO freaking long ago. We get along fine now.”
“I thought you guys seemed pretty friendly tonight. Well at least until Mrs. Rice showed up.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t like me OR my parents. And she doesn’t want Cameron around any of us. Because of my dad and all that stuff. She thinks were all a bunch of perverts or something.”
“Damn that’s too bad. Since you guys are together so much, it would be better if you were friends. Sometimes parents really get in the way of things, don’t they?”
“I know. It’s so stupid, just because they hate each other doesn’t mean WE have to hate each other too,” he whined. “He’s really funny and my god he’s -,” he started to say before stopping abruptly.
“And he’s what Max? Cute?” I was starting to get a strong feeling Max had developed a crush on Cameron.
“Well yeah! Duh!”
“He IS cute Max,” I agreed. “So you kind of like him then eh? Is there any chance of you two becoming…huh… more than friends?” I was part asking, part teasing.
“God I wish! But there’s no way! His mom will barely let him talk to me and besides, I just can’t see him being into guys.”
“Do you know that for sure? I mean have you asked him?”
“Craig! Don’t be dumb! Of course not! I can’t ask him that! If he started hating me again, I would be sick about it.”
“I understand. But you never know Max. People can surprise you. But there’s no reason you two can’t be friends – regular friends - at least. I’m not sure what I can do Max, but why don’t you let me work on it. Maybe I can get your moms to back off.”
“We ARE friends,” he practically yelled. “I snapchat with him probably more than anyone. We just keep it secret because he’s afraid his parents would take away his phone or even worse, make him switch gyms or something. It would be awesome if you could get them to stop being stupid, but I really don’t know what you can do.”
“Me either buddy. But let me think on it. No guarantees of course, but I promise I’ll try.”
“OK, thanks,” he mumbled. “Craig?” he said after a long pause.
“You really think Cam is cute?”
Oh shit! Busted. I tried to play it off – hopefully he didn’t think it was too odd that I was assessing the cuteness of a 13 year old. “Um, well, yeah, I’d say he’s a cute kid. Let’s just say I’m sure he has plenty of girls at his schools after him. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh I agree! TOTALLY! So you don’t think I’m cute,” he added sarcastically.
“Yes, Max, you are pretty cute too,” I answered, giving his hair a ruffle.
“Thanks,” he said with a grin.
I let the subject drop as we walked into Chipotle. I only hoped he hadn’t read too much into my comments about him and Cameron being cute. I didn’t want him suspecting I was into boys.
As we ate, I could hardly stop grinning each time I thought of Max having a crush on Cameron. It was too adorable. I had to force myself to stop grinning each time Max looked up at me.
That night, as I lay in bed alone, I let my imagination run wild. I imagined Max and Cameron lying on a bed making out. They were naked except for their boxer briefs which had been pushed down to their knees. I pictured their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, while their free hands ran through each other’s hair and up and down their smooth naked torsos, spending extra time exploring the other’s perfect teen ass. As they made out, their hard cocks pressed against each other and they both moaned in delight, thrusting their hips against each other.
Sadly, that was all the further I got in my imagined scene before I erupted in my own orgasm, splattering my chest with my load.
Over the next few days, I thought about Max’s dilemma with Cameron and Mrs. Rice. I decided the best thing I could do would be try to win Cameron’s mom over and make her see that Max isn’t a monster. He is, in fact, a really good kid. The mom’s don’t have to be friends, but they should at least be able to tolerate each other enough so that their son’s could be.
I wasn’t even sure if I’d even see Jeanine again – I’d been picking Max up for several weeks and hadn’t even seen her until last week. So, when she rolled in just after practice started the following week, I was mildly surprised. I was also surprised to see she was dressed more casually, in a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She promptly came over and sat next to me. I don’t know what had changed since last week, but she was significantly more sincere and less pretentious. It was if last week was a total snow job and now she was letting her façade down and was trying to be friendly. Or perhaps she was bipolar?
She was still a bit nosy, asking all about my own wife, kids and career. But I was able to reciprocate and found out her husband was a commercial real estate big shot and she did event planning part-time. Cameron was their only child, which didn’t surprise me one bit. The way she doted and talked about him was so typical of parents with just one kid. I was surprised to hear they actually lived not far from us. Max had never mentioned Cameron going to his school, but I soon realized that is because he goes to Widmer Academy – one of the more exclusive private schools in town.
As we talked, I tried my best to work in lots of positive facts about Max. I talked about how he did well in school and was well liked by his teachers. I told her how he was very responsible and always eats healthy without being reminded. She rolled her eyes when I said that. “We have to hide the junk food from Cameron.” I was somewhat surprised she was actually willing to admit one of her son’s faults, even though it was a petty one. I thought right then that I was maybe breaking through. Maybe.
Most of all I tried to impress upon her how difficult the whole situation with his dad had been. I think she was patiently waiting for the topic to come up because when it did she tried to pry me for specifics. I think she expected that I knew all the lurid details. “I don’t really know that much. I know his dad’s sentencing was delayed, but that he will be going away soon. To be honest, I’ve tried to stay out of that whole thing Jeanine,” I told her. “I’m here for Max. Sure, I’m helping out his mom, but my main focus is Max. He’s an awesome kid and he doesn’t deserve to be put through any of this. It’s a testament to his character that he’s still here, competing at this level.”
“Well, perhaps it’s been a good distraction for him.” Yay! It was the first remotely empathetic thing I’d heard her say. “But lord knows the things that boy has seen and heard.” I could tell she was still worried about Max negatively influencing her perfect angel of a son with his perceived carnal knowledge.
“I’m sure gymnastics has been a refuge. And from what I know, Max hadn’t seen or heard anything until everything came to light,” I said. I didn’t know for sure if that was true, but I didn’t think she’d possibly know any better. “I’d actually say he’s kind of naïve for 13 to be honest.”
“I see,” she responded, acting surprised. “Well I was so glad to hear you weren’t involved with Mrs. Coleman,” she said and then leaned into me. “Rumor has it her and her ex were quite the swingers. Lord knows what diseases she might have.” My guess is word of their visits to Orient Bay had gotten out and people lacked understanding of the resort and assumed it was some sort of swinger resort.
I gave her a sharp look that caused her to lean away from me. But then in a quiet but yet stern voice, I told her “You know? I really don’t care WHAT they do - or did. I am just here for Max! Understand?” I wasn’t hostile, but I definitely delivered the message that I wasn’t going to get caught up in the gymnastics mom rumor mill.
“Yes, of course. I apologize Mr. Peters. I didn’t mean to imply –“ she began to answer before apparently losing her train of thought and just shaking her head. “I’ve got some errands to run. Have a nice evening,” she said excusing herself rather abruptly.
“Well Max,” I thought to myself, “I’m not sure I did you any favors there.”
As it turns, I had actually done better than I thought. The next week she was in the bleachers when I arrived. Three weeks in a row now she’s been there.
I had barely finished telling Max to have a good practice when she came up to me. It seems week by week her personality was becoming less abrasive. (Or maybe she was remembering to take her meds?) “Mr. Peters,” she began. “I want to apologize. I was way out of line last week and I want to make it up to you. Would you allow me to buy you a drink? That is if you drink? Or perhaps a coffee?”
I briefly weighed whether I could tolerate being alone with Mrs. Rice for that long. It was a tough call, but I decided it was worth it for Max. “I do enjoy a cold beer Jeanine. I accept.” She looked quite surprised. I think she fully expected me to turn her down. She suggested the same bar that I had met Stacy in several weeks before. “Yes, I know it,” I said. “I’ll meet you there. I have an errand to run before I have to come back.”
Our conversation at the bar got off to a bit of a rocky start. Two men were casually sharing a drink a few tables away. “Those are the Wilson-Thurman’s,” she told me in a whisper. “Their daughter practices at our gym. They’re the gym’s token gay parents,” she sold rolling her eyes. “Can you imagine? That poor girl! No mom and having two gays as parents. Yikes.” She even managed to grimace when she said ‘gays’.
“Well,” I replied sharply, “I’d say having two parents that really love you and love each other puts you ahead of about a third of the kids in the world. If you look at it that way, I’d say she’s lucky. Single mom’s raise sons, I’m sure two dads can manage raising a girl.”
“I’ve done put my foot in my mouth again, haven’t I?” she asked, looking apologetic. Oh! You sure did, honey.
Our remaining conversation at the bar lasted an hour and was actually pleasant. She spent the first 10 minutes lavishing praise on me for being ‘such a gentlemen’. It dawned on me that by standing up to her attempt to gossip last week, I had cemented a rather solid image in her mind of a guy with morals beyond reproach. She couldn’t stop telling me how amazing I was for spending time with Max, how lucky my wife must be, etc. I had to almost laugh to myself. The irony! Would she think I was such a saint if she knew that some of the precum that soaked into my underwear each Thursday night was because I was admiring her hot teenage son and thinking about plunging my face in between his nice round ass and eating his sweet boy pussy? Yeah, probably not.
We discovered that we’d vacationed in a lot of the same places, so that took up the bulk of our conversation. I actually love to talk about travelling, so I didn’t mind the exchange. It also didn’t hurt that the beer was cold. It was towards the end that she told me, “Oh Craig, I do wish Bob and I could hit the beach sometime with you. You would be so much fun on vacation! I bet you’re a riot with a couple margaritas in you!” She then excused herself to the restroom.
As she was gone, it hit me. She’s fucking flirting with me! She’d grabbed my hands several times in conversation. Now she’s telling me she wants to hit the beach. Oy! One of the disadvantages of being a boy lover is that you tend to miss the cues of women hitting on you. I did realize this could help Max out though. Perhaps if I string her along just enough, she’ll loosen the reins on Cameron…..
When she returned, I quickly finished my beer, and excused myself to go run my errands, before the situation could get awkward.
I pulled up to the door to get Max right as he had texted me. He jumped into the car and asked where I’d been.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.
“I went and had a beer with the wicked witch!”
“No fucking way! Oh my god. Whyyyyy?”
“She invited me. I didn’t realize it right away but I am pretty sure she was hitting on me.”
“I know! Right? But hey, on the bright side she’s starting to have a better opinion of you I think. Maybe we can start laying the groundwork for your friendship with Cameron to become public. Perhaps we could ask them to go eat with us sometime after a practice?”
“Oh man. I’m not sure I could deal with her for a whole dinner.”
“Maybe. But then WE couldn’t talk as much.”
“Wait? What? You like talking to ME?” I asked sarcastically.
“SHUT UP!” he said, punching me in the arm, grinning.
After Max had told me about his visit to Club Orient (the naturist resort) a few weeks prior, I’d been casually working in follow-up questions to satisfy my curiosity. I’d thought of a dozen things I wanted to ask, but I’d managed to sprinkle the questions into our conversations sparingly. I didn’t want him to know how obsessed I was with the idea of him and other cute boys running around the beach naked.
I’d already managed to ask him about the lodging at the resort (it varies from camping to apartments) and if guys ever got boners there and what they did to hide it. “Yeah they do, sometimes, but I never did though,” he told me. “Not then. But now I would. I get them all the time now for no reason,” he told me. “But at the Club they just ask that you to hide it until it goes away. Like roll over or just grab a towel. It was kinda funny seeing fat old men boned up,” he said laughing.
That was last week’s conversation. I was really amazed how at ease Max had become talking to me. After the night when he told me all about his trips to the nude beaches, he had been quite forthcoming on topics you would expect to be embarrassing to a 13 year old boy (such as talking about getting boners in school). There wasn’t any hesitation when he spoke. Everything was very matter of fact and he even joked about sensitive subjects. I guess that made sense though, after all, I already knew his most personal secret. Tonight I was really hoping to find out more about his French friend Benjamin. “So, just curious, do you and Benjamin – the kid from St. Martin still talk at all?” I asked as we were leaving the restaurant.
“Sometimes. Mostly we just comment on each other’s Insta posts and stuff, but we’ve face timed some too.”
“Cool. That can be tough with the time difference huh?”
“Yeah! He’s going to bed when I am getting home from school. Which isn’t all bad.”
“Cause he sleeps naked too. His whole family goes without clothes at home a lot of the time but he’s always naked in bed. So when we facetime I get to see ALL of him.”
“Oh? So, are you telling me you have a thing for him then Max?”
“Not like that! Were just friends. But we did show each other things.”
Now that grabbed my interest. “Things?”
“Yeah, like pubes and stuff. We both started growing them about the same time, so we kind of just compared and stuff. You know, like YOU used to do to YOUR classmates. His hairs are so much darker!”
I looked over at him. “Well, yes, YOU would have blond pubes Max!”
“How do you know that? I’ve seen blond guys with dark bushes.”
“Here’s a little secret for you Max. People’s pubes will usually match their eyebrows. Your eyebrows are blonde like your regular hair so voila, you’ll have blond pubes. That’s kind of rare actually you lucky dog. But alas, they will all get darker as you get older probably, so enjoy them while you can.” I was curious if maybe Max and Benjamin’s facetiming ever turned naughty. “So does Benjamin know you like boys? Did you um… get an erection when you two were comparing?”
“Of course I got hard, Benjamin is sooo cute! He’s seen me hard before though so it’s no big deal. But he likes girls.”
“He is cute,” I agreed. “But he’s seen you hard? You mean on face time? And how do you know he likes girls?”
Max stammered for a few seconds, which he hadn’t been doing much lately. “Ok, I’m going to tell you something. Something kinda personal,” he said and looked over to me, waiting for my approval.
“Yeah, ok. You know you can trust me Max,” I assured him.
“Well,” he started. “Benjamin is who taught me how to jerk off. In St. Martin. One night we stayed back in our bungalow to watch TV while my parents went with his parents and sister to this big dance thing. I didn’t know anything about wanking and he showed me while he talked about the girls at the resort he wanted to do stuff with. So we both wanked as he told me how to do it. So that’s how he’s seen me hard and I know he likes girls. He kept going on and on about how he wanted to lick all these older girls pussies. And all I could think about was how cute his dick was with his skin sliding up and down over the end.”
I tried to keep my concentration on the road as I visualized them sitting side by side on a couch stroking their pre-pubescent boy cocks. The thought of Benjamin instructing Max on how to pleasure himself had my own cock quickly filling. “Cool. I think everyone has someone that clues them in on the joys of masturbation. For me it was an older neighborhood boy when I was 10,” I told him. “Been doing it ever since,” I added with a chuckle. In reality, I was only 8, but it WAS a neighbor boy who taught me - up in our attic.
“Yeah, me too. I wished I’d learned earlier. I mean I’d gotten it hard before just messing around, but nobody told me about orgasms and cumming. You know you adults really shouldn’t keep that a secret.”
“I hear ya pal. I remember thinking Why didn’t someone tell me about this sooner. So Benjamin doesn’t know you get off looking at him naked then?”
“Nah. I’ve not told him. If we were ever at the club together again I might, but I figure we’ll probably not ever meet again, so what’s the point?”
“That make a lot of sense Max,” I told him.
“Can I ask you something now Craig?”
“Of course. Shoot.”
“Why do guys like to do that anyway? You know what Benjamin was obsessed with - licking a girl’s pussy.”
I took a deep breath and thought for a moment. I’ve never been a fan of performing oral sex on women. Frankly, I don’t like the smell and it’s just not fun for me. I’d much rather suck a cock. But, I was still maintaining a 100% heterosexual front to Max. “Well Max, I’m probably not the best one to ask. I’ve done it of course, but it’s not something I really love. I mean the best part about it is that women seem to REALLY like it, so just making them happy is the main reason to do it. But there are guys who love it. But to be perfectly honest, it can be kind of gross to me. I’m sure as hell not having dreams about doing that.”
“Me either!” he laughed.
When I dropped Max off, he gave me his usual half hug and ran inside his house.
I drove home very happy. I loved how our relationship had continued to develop. It seemed with each passing week, Max trusted me more and more. I absolutely loved that Max had enough faith in me enough to admit his crushes, tell me about his sexual encounters, and even ask me questions about sex. If a boy-lover can’t be active sexually with his young friend, getting to talk to him about sex is at least a decent substitute that can fuel some hot fantasies!
Continued feedback and ideas appreciated (email@example.com).
In the next chapter we learn a little more about Max, but through his friend & my neighbor Noah.
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