Date: Mon, 25 May 2009 13:08:29 -0700 From: Data Fever Subject: Mike Helps Out Disclaimer: The events portrayed in this story were legal in the locale in which they occurred. Please do not engage in unlawful activities. I hadn't visited my parents for ten years. In fact, the last time was a large family gathering for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Now it was their sixtieth. It was a real joy to be reunited. My parents live in a rural community on two and a half acres. Most of their neighbors have five to ten acres; across the street they have six horses, to the east is a peach orchard, adjacent to the back of the property are corn and sheep, while to the west is a smaller two plus acre lot with a couple of pit bulls. My parents don't raise anything special. My mom plants trees. There are grape vines bordering most of the property and wire fences. Besides the main house, there are two large wooden sheds and a smaller tool shed. There are brick and sand paths everywhere to accommodate my mom's wheelchair and electric cart. There's one thing you've got to know about my mom. She was never able to afford the house of her dreams, so her goal is to convert her existing house into that mold. My parents' house is in a constant state of being remodeled. The garage has been converted into a living room with a bay window and a front door. An addition was built onto the front east side of the house which mom calls her 'nook', containing her sewing, quilting, photography and other projects. A sun room was added along the entire back of the house containing a swimming pool, hot tub, and numerous plants. What used to be the third bedroom is now the dining room, and the master bedroom has been enlarged to include the second bedroom. In the house's current state, the only bedroom is the master bedroom, so I moved myself into their 23 foot RV, a fifth wheeler. It was hooked up to electricity and had propane tanks, but no water. I stocked up the refrigerator with food and I was all set. It was my private retreat other than having to use the bathroom in the house. Normally mom will have several projects ongoing at the same time, so it didn't really surprise me that instead of working on a project that was already in progress, mom wanted me to start a brand new project. The RV was parked on a level area up near the street. Mom's project was to clear an area back behind the house alongside the sheds to park the RV. There was a lot of work that needed to get done before the RV could be moved. The area was full of weeds and not level at all. While I had expected to be moving a lot of dirt around, the area was mostly dirty gravel. In thinking about what I had to work with, and what I wanted to achieve, I decided that my best bet was to use 1/4 inch hardware cloth to separate the rock from the dirty sand (sandy dirt?), and lay down a 4 inch base of rock. Then I would tamp sand into the rock to create a solid surface. I had six tons of sand delivered. Then began the arduous work of removing the existing material, screening it to separate the rock from the detritus, stockpiling the rock, and carting the dirty sand off for a future project. It wasn't that bad, except for the record-breaking heat wave that persisted. Because it was so hot in the middle of the day, I worked mostly in the morning and in the evening. Of course, there was nothing better than starting my day by watching the school bus stop a half-block away every schoolday morning at 7:20. A blond-haired boy of about 13 was the only person to get on the bus. I couldn't see him as he waited for the bus, and only caught the briefest glimpse of him as he boarded. He would always wear blue jeans with sneakers and a t-shirt. His backpack was a mixture of violet, purple and black and had a heavy look to it. After seeing this cutie off to school, I would get up and eat breakfast, then get to work. I wasn't trying to kill myself, but rather just plodded along steadily. Nevertheless, after a couple of weeks I could see that I was not going to get done before I would have to leave. I would take a break for the hottest part of the afternoon, particularly seeing as how the unseasonable heat wave continued unabated. And lying on my non-air conditioned bed, I would see the school bus come trundling back at 3:50 every afternoon. My blond-haired beauty would step off the bus, cross the street and disappear behind the neighbor's shrubbery. Many a time I thought about taking a walk down the side street into which he disappeared. Hey, if I just happened to be walking in that vicinity as he came home... Anyway, after watching him get off the bus, I would again go back to the task of getting that area prepared. Raking a section smooth, taking a shovelful and dumping it on the screen, shaking the screen over the wheelbarrow, and throwing the rocks onto a pile. When the wheelbarrow filled up, I would haul it way over to the other side of the yard and dump it. Over and over again. As I was doing this, I contemplated that there was no way that I was going to finish in the week that I had left to me before I had to leave. It was already Thursday, and I had to leave no later than Friday of the following week. More than once I daydreamed about having someone to help, but then there was no real need to get the project done before I left. Still, it would have been nice. "Hello..." I whirled around at the sound of a strange voice. Unbelievably, there stood the school bus boy. "Umm.. I was wondering if maybe you needed some help. I'm trying to save some money, and well, I was kinda hoping that maybe you could use some help." He alternated between hesitations (as though he didn't really know what he wanted to say) and running his words together so fast that his tongue would trip over them (as though he had practiced in his head many times what he wanted to say and couldn't get the words out fast enough). I took some time to explain the nature of the project and the techniques that I was using to get things accomplished. Meanwhile I tried not to stare at this Adonis that stood so near to me. His eyes were a dark blue. There was a dusting of blond peach fuzz on his upper lip. He wore a small stud in his left earlobe. It goes without saying that I hired him on the spot. My heart jumped a beat when he took off his T-shirt. His upper body was lightly tanned, although his arms and neck showed a much deeper tan. He wasn't particularly muscular, but he wasn't skinny either. I also had my T-shirt off. After two weeks of working outdoors, my upper body was nicely tanned. Still, I was both surprised and pleased to hear him comment on my tan. As we worked, I asked him questions to get a conversation jump-started. His answers tended to be short, and I wondered if I would ever get him to open up. Nevertheless, I found out that he was fourteen years old, fifteen in two months. He pointed out the house that he lived in - it was on the other side of the property to the west. I could only see a portion of the upper part of it, but the second story window was his bedroom. He was a freshman in high school. He had a PlayStation 2 game system and was saving up to get himself a PS3 system. It was amazing how much more energy I seemed to have, and before I knew it, it was time for Mike to go home. I gave him a quick hug of thanks, savoring the touch of his skin against mine. If he was startled by such an action, I was even more startled when he gave me a quick hug in return. On Friday, he showed up only a few minutes after getting off the bus - enough time to drop off his backpack at home and run over. He immediately took off his T-shirt and we set to work. Mike was much more forthcoming about his personal life that afternoon. He had been living with his grandparents for the last four months, and they didn't get along very well. His father had left home when he was two years old and had never come back. There was an old family picture hanging in the hallway of his mom's place, but that was the only picture Mike had ever seen of his father. His mother was an alcoholic and a drug user. She was currently in a drug rehab program and he wasn't allowed to live with her until she could convince the judge that she was capable of keeping her addictions under control. So far, she was failing miserably and Mike worried that she would eventually get sent to prison because of all her possession charges. Mike did not have many friends at school, and no close ones at all. I could understand his plight, knowing that this area was very conservative in its values, and many people I'd encountered were filled with indignation in their moral self-righteousness. In spite of our conversations, we managed to get quite a bit of work done before Mike had to go home. We hugged, not a quick one either. He clung to me and for a good minute his chest pressed against mine, his face against my shoulder, my hands caressed his back. I gave him a quick kiss on the forehead as we parted. As we had arranged, Mike came over at ten o'clock on Saturday morning. I had been working for a couple of hours already. Mike talked about the frustrations he felt at having to live with his grandparents, how they criticized his mom for marrying a no-good bum, how she had been throwing her life away with those filthy drugs. And they were upset with him too, the junk food he ate, the fact that they had to cook his food and wash his clothes, the water he wasted with his long showers. He spent most of his time up in his room, doing his homework and playing video games. He tried to help when he could, but he didn't get the dishes clean enough when he washed them, he didn't get them dry enough when he dried, he didn't put them in the right places when he put them in the cupboards, and so on. At noon, we took a break. I showed him my living quarters in the RV. Mike was totally impressed at the concept of having a completely separate living place. He looked through everything while I made us some sandwiches to eat. Eventually he was satisified that things were as 'cool' as they looked. He wished he had a place like that to live in. We ate the sandwiches. Then he plopped himself down on the couch and laid down with his head on my lap. I couldn't help but run my fingers through his hair. I stared at his face as I ran my fingers over every inch of it. Rubbing my hand over Mike's chest, he fell asleep. I caressed his arms, his sides, his stomach. I tried to slip my fingers inside his jeans, but his belt was too tight. I toyed with the idea of unbuckling his belt, but decided against it. I ran my hand over his crotch, but I could feel almost nothing through the denim material. I contented myself with brushing my fingers over his chest and stomach until he woke up. There was a smile on his face and when he sat up, he leaned over and gave me a long hug. The next couple of hours flew by. For the first time, I considered that just possibly this project would get done before I had to leave. We stopped for another break. Mike sat down beside me on the couch and I held him close in my arms with his bare back against my bare chest. Several times, Mike's hands moved down to his belt buckle, as though he were struggling with the idea of unbuckling his belt. I kept hoping that he would, but he didn't. I contented myself with holding him in my arms. All too soon, we were back at work, and then he was gone for another day. His absence left a hole in my heart. On Sunday, Mike didn't come over until early afternoon. His grandparents expected him to attend church services with them and then there was a formal Sunday dinner. For my part, my thoughts were in a whirl when Mike showed up wearing shorts instead of blue jeans. Red shorts that came down below his knees and hung loosely on him. When it was finally time to take a break from the afternoon heat, I could not get into the RV fast enough. We each drank a can of soda and I sat down on the couch expectantly. I could have kicked myself when I realized that Mike's eyes had been glancing at the bedroom area. It seemed that there was a sense of reluctance when he sat down beside me. But as he laid himself on my lap, there was a smile on his face. Instead of putting his head on my lap as he had the day before, he laid so that his upper back and shoulders were on my lap and his head was in the crook of my left arm. I bent over and gave his forehead a kiss, and then kissed the tip of his nose for good measure. His response was a beautiful smile. I was hoping that he would fall asleep as I ran my hand over his chest and stomach, but he gave no indication of doing so. We talked of nothing, and I became more bold. Ever so slightly, I would allow my fingers to creep under the elastic band of his shorts as I caressed his abdomen lower and lower. From there, matters seemed to take flight. My hand moved from side to side, pushing his shorts down over his hips, centimeter by centimeter. By the time that I moved my hand to his backside to grab a feel of his buttocks (and incidentally slide the back of his shorts down several inches), there was a tent pole holding out the front of his shorts. Soon, the only thing that was preventing the exposure of his privates was the elastic at the top of his shorts. I leaned over and kissed him several times on his face. Then I lifted the elastic over the tentpole and found myself staring at his flagpole. It was 12-13 cm long, call it 5 inches. Not circumcised, but the skin had pulled back exposing most of the flared head. And thin, just a little fatter than my middle finger. His dick jumped when I touched it. His smile still dominated his face, and he shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. I kissed him several more times, twice very near to his lips and there was no shirking on his part. Pushing his shorts down a little further, I cupped his balls in my hand and then ran my hand over the insides of his legs. Touching his dick caused it to twitch again. After that, it became a kind of game. I would caress his thighs, hold his balls, and then run my fingers over the thin shaft of his love rod watching its spasmodic dance. Eventually I realized that his boner was no longer jerking at my touch, because it was in a perpetually inflated state. From this I surmised that he was approaching his point of no return. Although I didn't know if his orgasm would produce any results, I did not want to miss any offering he might make. I slipped my arm out from behind his head and, grasping his butt firmly in my hands, leaned over and swallowed him whole. In no time at all, my lips could feel the throbbing that indicated a successful orgasm. Was there a sweet taste in my mouth also? I wasn't sure, but it seemed there was and I accepted it at that. When I sat back up, Mike wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. Without a doubt, it was the most passionate kiss I've ever received. After we went back to work, Mike confessed that he would stare out his bedroom window and watch me working. Most days he would fantasize about being in my arms as he jerked off. I asked him if the real thing lived up to his fantasty expectations, and he assured me that the real thing was much, much better. We hugged and kissed (with my hands wandering all over his body) for a long time before he left. On Monday afternoon, we finished up the basic process of removing the pre-existing material, laying down landscape cloth to prevent weeds, and filling the area with many wheelbarrows of small rock. I had been hoping to spend some time with Mike in the RV, but it was time for him to leave by the time we got done. On Tuesday, I tried to get the rock all leveled before Mike came, but I didn't even get close. I had a long 2x6 that I used to push the rock into place, but it wasn't a one person operation. Fortunately, with Mike's help we were able to get it all finished, just in time for him to leave. I practically begged him to stay, knowing that our time together was short, but he smiled and told me that he had a surprise for me - tomorrow. Tomorrow - Wednesday morning - I lay in bed waiting for the school bus and the brief glimpse of Mike as he boarded it. Just as it was starting to dawn on me that the bus was awfully late, Mike came bounding in the door. He kicked off his shoes and climbed up into the bed area. Seeing the look of astonishment on my face, he explained that school was starting an hour late. For the next 55 minutes, we explored each other's bodies. Mike used his hand to cause me to ejaculate - an event that he had never seen before. I sucked him off again, and this time there was no doubt that he deposited some love seed in my mouth. Then it was time for him to throw his clothes on, run out the door and catch the bus just as it came by. I went out and rented a 13" plate compactor. I'd never used one before, and I had no idea if pounding sand into the rock would actually provide a solid surface, but I had nothing to lose from the attempt. By the time Mike arrived, I had conducted enough tests to know that it would work just fine. I shoveled sand while Mike ran the compactor back and forth, side to side, in circles and every which way. By the time we were done, the pile of sand was well over half gone. Had I really shoveled almost four tons of sand? I guess so. Nevertheless, the entire area was a solid surface that would easily support mom's wheelchair without the wheels sinking in. Mike and I parted that day after another long hug and kiss, knowing that we had just a couple of more short hours before I left. On Thursday morning, after watching Mike leave, I prepared the RV for its short trip, putting everything away, inflating the tires and mounting the fifth-wheel hitch on the pickup. I had never backed up a fifth-wheel before, but I had an intellectual knowledge of how to do it, how it differed from backing up a regular trailer. I had to maneuver a sharp S-bend around the corner of the house. A sharp narrow S-bend. In the end, the RV sat exactly where it was supposed to be sitting. I hooked up the electricity. The water and gas would wait until I returned. By the time that Mike arrived, there was nothing left to do. Mike arrived and inspected the work with pride, knowing that he had been a part of making it happen. Then we stepped inside, and he took all the initiative. After we kicked off our shoes, he pulled me into a hug and a passionate kiss. He pulled down my sweat pants and boxers and pulled me into the sleeping area. There was nothing slow and tender about his lovemaking. With frantic motions, he climbed on top of me, pushed his nude body against mine, his crotch against my crotch, his rod of fire jabbing against me. We wrestled back and forth for supremacy, the right to be on the top as our sweaty bodies slid against each other. While Mike had never had any other lovers, he had fantasized for years about what he wanted - what he wanted to do to his lover and what he wanted his lover to do to him. Although he had never sucked on a dick before, what he lacked in technique, he made up for in energy and enthusiasm. Meanwhile, I had the pleasure of sticking my tongue into his bunghole. I only stopped long enough to let him know that I was going to cum. He didn't let up at all. Although I yearned to have his pubescent cock in my mouth, I wanted him to see that he was also now producing sperm. When he finally came, there was a little puddle on his stomach which I then licked up. After a lot more hugging and holding, kissing and caressing, it was finally time for him to go home. I knew that it would be two months before I came back. I couldn't even guarantee if I would be back before his fifteenth birthday. But I assured him that I would be back. It was a sad parting, just as miserable for him, I'm sure, as it was for me. But we kept with us a hope of better things to come.