Date: Sun, 9 Jan 2011 01:32:43 +1030 From: James Smith Subject: Opening a Window ? Chapter 1 - Connection Opening a Window – Chapter 1: Connection By James Smith *** Quick Intro/disclaimer This story contains sexual scenes between preteen/teen boy/s and a man/men. If this subject is offensive or off putting to you, read no further. Only read if you are of legal age as stated in your local government. I can be contacted at: d-i-t-m@hotmail.com. Please use the subject line "Re: Nifty", for easier e-mail filtering. Me, I live in South Australia and I am 24. I don't really like to label myself as gay/bi/straight; I'm just completely open minded. This story is mine, copyright of mine. Not to be reproduced without my sole permission. So far only Nifty has received this story from me, so therefore should be the only place it can be found. Respect copyright please. End Intro :) *** "Opening a Window – Chapter 1: Connection" Fuck I love Friday nights. Having just moved here from my home state I was completely alone here. Sure, at first, it was lonely spending every weekend alone after leaving my involved social life, but I have learned to appreciate the solitude. Especially after all the drama back home, I couldn't handle it anymore, so much hostility and dishonesty. It's not what I thought my life should be like, I wanted to go somewhere where I could forge new relationships that I wanted, needed. Not just perpetuate relationships that I simply grew up with and tolerated, this was my new start, I could do anything I wanted, I just had to find the right people to surround myself with. It's a Friday night now, as much as I like my new co-workers, I don't feel comfortable enough yet to invite myself to their coveted after work drinks, maybe soon. I picked up dinner after work and ate it while I caught up on my television shows for the week. Having done that, naturally I procrastinated on the internet, checking emails and my RSS feeds, typical daily stuff. Of course this progressed to checking my extra email for my weekly porn. As usual it was full. I consider myself a straight man, but I absolutely love watching men getting off on each other. Real men, covered in hair, rough as guts, the kind of men you wouldn't expect to see in these kind of videos. I know it seems strange for a straight man to enjoy this, and I can appreciate a hot, young, slutty woman degrading herself, but I always feel guilty seeing women in this regard. I stroked my nine inch cock through my boxers as I viewed the raw sexuality on my screen. I pulled it out of the top of my underwear and stroked the skin up and down. These videos always get me going and I can never concentrate on anything until I get the job done. I needed to get more comfortable, there is an art to cumming and I couldn't enjoy it as well restricted by a computer chair. With the images of bears and cubs with drenched, cum covered bodies in my mind, I walked across to my bedroom. I removed my boxers and lat out on the bed completely naked. I looked down my hairy body and watched my cock jump as I flexed it. I spread my legs as far as I could and reached down to rub inside my thighs. I tilted my head back as I ran my hands up and down my hairy balls and my thick shaft. I grasped my cock hard and began to pump. I fisted my cock hard and relished the feelings of a good wank. My feet were pushing my body up and down as I humped my cock into my hand, my legs spreading wider. I could feel the familiar tingling in my nuts and my stomach as I prepared for the spectacular orgasm. I pushed my hips up further and stared at my piss slit as it was rapidly covered and uncovered over and over again. I pulled down on my foreskin hard as the initial blast of cum volleyed forth from my cock. It sprayed my chest and shoulder. I pulled down hard as I felt each shot approaching. Several streams streaked my chest and stomach, quickly soaking into my dark body hair. I moaned as the last of the cum dribbled out and poured onto my dense pubic hair. With a grunt I dropped back onto the bed. I lay in bliss after my incredible orgasm. I stroked the cum on my chest and just lazily fingered my nipples. I wished this feeling didn't have to end. It was over though and I was reminded of what afforded me these sessions. As good as they were, they couldn't replace the feelings of companionship and fraternity. I felt the self pity rising and loathed the practical thoughts that always follow my edging sessions. I reached over to the bedside table to grab a tissue to clean up. I froze, my heart just about stopped. The bedroom window was completely open! My wide eyes matched the gaze met by the ten year old next door neighbour's boy. I jumped off the bed and dashed out the room. In my panic I threw on some clothes, still covered in ejaculate. I leaned back against a wall and squeezed my head in frustration. Frustration at my complete lack of awareness and stupidity. Fuck! What if the kid were to tell someone? His parents? I would be labelled a sexual deviant, probably even a pedophile! I would have to move, start again, but it would still follow me around. I was terrified of what was to come. I had to sort something out. I took a breath and calmed down just a bit. I undressed again and with a wet cloth, cleaned myself off. I re-dressed in somewhat nice clothing and prepared to face whatever would come from what I was to do next. I left the house and made my way across the lawn to the house next door. I knocked on the front door. My mind was scrambled, thoughts of what to say, how to explain, how to beg crowded everything and made it impossible to form a coherent thought. I heard the latch on the door turning. Slowly it opened. I felt the blood rush to my head as he stood there in front of me. The boy who had just seen me in the throes of self-abuse just looked at me as he would anyone. I was caught off guard. "Hello? Sir?" He was talking, talking to me. It was such an innocent question but I still felt immensely guilty. "I—Uh, hi, I'm from next door. I'm really sorry, I think I need to talk to your parents about what happened." I didn't expect it, the tears burst from his eyes, panic flushed his face. "No! You can't mister, I'm so sorry!" He blubbered and his nose began to run. I was thoroughly confused. I felt like crying too. "What? You didn't do anything wrong kid. I just need to talk to your parents and explain what happened." "You can't! It's just my dad that lives here anyway, but he's out right now. He'll be so mad at me. Please don't tell him I was watching you. It was just an accident mister!" "Hey...hey. You're on your own here? You've got to be about ten years old!" "Yeah, I'm always alone here. Dad goes out a lot, it's okay though cause then he's not mad. I'm sorry mister, please don't tell my dad." He crying subsided but he was still sniffling. I felt bad for him, he was alone and his dad was obviously abusive. I didn't know what was to be done in a situation like that, I don't think anyone would have. I understood him though, the guilt of not knowing when you are being good or bad. Abuse can do that, blur the lines, confuse. My throat tightened, the feelings I left were right in front of me, in this tiny body that was weighed beyond its years. He stood looking up at me with watered eyes, he was waiting for a response, probably expecting more abuse, cruelty or abandonment. "I'm...not going to tell okay kid? I wouldn't want your dad to be mad. But seriously, you shouldn't be alone at your age, isn't there somewhere you could go, friends you could stay with?" "Thank you, mister! But I have to stay here; no-one else will let me near. They know my dad, they know what he's like and they tell their kids to stay away from me. I don't have any friends, mister, so I just stay here." I felt the tightening in my throat grow stronger. I had to choke it down, this boy was the saddest story I have ever encountered. I saw him more clearly now. The little purple and yellow marks on his legs and arms, the little split in his tiny lip, the shaggy dark blonde hair that was messy and uneven. He was a crisis, virtually invisible. My own fear dissolved and absolution filled me. This child would be my salvation; I would help myself by helping him. He wouldn't become me. "You do have a friend kid." *** Thanks for reading this far. I know it probably didn't contain the sexuality you were expecting, but I am trying something new here, something I haven't really tried before. This will be an ongoing series. It will deal with the relationship of a boy and a man and will hopefully challenge the modern perception that all pedophilic experiences are evil. Though I have never participated in such a thing, and very much doubt I could, I have a passion for abused children. I absolutely detest abuse and perhaps will educate some with this literature. While not arrogant enough to apply it to real life, this account will be my exploration into the morals of a pederastic relationship and explain my own thoughts and possibilities on the situation. Please feel free to contact me with thoughts, comments and criticisms. I am happy to discuss anything on the subject. Email me or add me to MSN at: d-i-t-m@hotmail.com Not sure how often I will submit more chapters, let me know if you would like to be notified. Cheers and have a good one =]