Date: Sat, 03 Oct 2020 08:53:03 +0300 From: Ursa Minor Subject: (adult/youth) Pushing Boundaries 2 Hey there, people of Nifty! This particular story is special to me. It is a collaborative labor of love written by myself and a younger boylover in my life, someone who was arguably MY boy for part of his teen years, even though we weren't able to be physically intimate until later in his life. We sort-of started out thinking about this collaboration as a way to imagine what could have been for us if we'd gotten together when he was a child, or at least I did. But as roleplay often does, it quickly took on a life of its own as seemingly casual decisions drove the story in very unexpected directions. That said, bear in mind that it is, first and foremost, a story; the characters are imperfect, and not necessarily the best role models for what might constitute good behavior in any similar real life situations. Allowing their story to provoke thought on best ethical practices is encouraged, but blindly presuming that the answers that fit the characters are the answers that would fit any real life circumstance is just setting yourself (and probably others) up for catastrophic, painful failures. *Don't do that.* Sorry the separators and bold/italic fonts didn't seem to translate over email to Nifty. I'll use old school methods from this point forward and try to clean up Chapter 1 someday down the line. Finally, as always, be sure to tip your writers with verbal feedback (ursaminor@online.ee), and your hosts here at Nifty with financial feedback. Were it not for them, this site would not exist, and I'm quite sure that there are many stiflers of free speech out there who would prefer it didn't. Make sure Nifty's coffers are well armed against any potential attack. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- RECAP: Gary has received an unexpected visit from a good old friend, Mike, and his preteen son, Tom. Mike has referred to Tom having some vague troubles at home, over an unknown situation with someone named Marky. Gary's teenaged friend-with-benefits, Kyle, has put the notion in Gary's head that Tom might be someone to get to know intimately, but so far Gary has not seriously entertained any ideas like that... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- I came downstairs to the smell of the pizza just beginning to percolate in the oven. I'd set the temperature about fifty degrees below the recommended temperature on the box, so I could get that extra golden brown flavor to it. That also meant it wouldn't be done for another fifteen minutes or so, and then another five to ten minutes of letting it sit, so Tommy -- no, Tom -- would have plenty of time to play around upstairs with the gliders. I used the time to check some email. Couple of Patreon goodies, the usual political spam, and one or two requests for a digital art commission. One happened to be a portrait request for a boy not much older than Tom, except he was blond instead of redheaded and had an adorably oversized nose. The potential customer (presumably not the boy himself) wanted me to draw the boy in one of those "cherub surrounded by animals" scenes from the bible, as a confirmation present. As I quoted it out, I considered maybe doing something like that for Tom before he left. A sweet, melodic giggle floated down from upstairs, bringing an instant smile to my face. I decided that the pizza was likely done and took it out of the oven. It looked good enough, certainly, although a tad plain. Maybe I should've asked the kid if he liked pepperoni? Ah well, there was always next time. While I waited for it to cool, I set up two folding trays in front of the living room couch and called up to my young houseguest. "Pizza's almost done! Don't worry about the gliders, if they come down with you or on you its fine, just leave the cage door open so they can make their way back in." I was fairly confident that my furry little friends would ditch their playmate and stay in the bedroom. Early afternoon is not usually their active time. Sure enough, he didn't have any hitchhikers on his clothing as he stepped down. They'd clearly run around in his hair a bit, though, because it was sticking up at weird angles. "Have fun?" I asked. He nodded in reply, flashing a winning ear-to-ear grin. I gestured towards the couch and then moved to cut up the pizza while he made himself comfortable. Since his dour mood on arrival was clearly behind him, this seemed like as good a time as any to find out why Mike had brought him here. "So, Tom," I began, putting a plate of pizza in front of him. "Gimme the scoop on what you think your dad's thinking. I tell him you guys are welcome here anytime you want, but this is the first time he's actually taken me up on it in years. It was uncharacteristically short notice for him... was more like the spontaneous kind of thing I'd do." Seriously, I have a horrible spontaneous streak. If it weren't for his wife I'd probably have dropped in on them twice a year, minimum. "Ummm, well he wanted me to get away from home for a little bit," Tom replied. I could tell from the way he was looking up that he was trying unsuccessfully to hide embarrassment as he added, "I guess you probably already know why." I didn't, of course, but I felt like it might make things easier for him if I alluded to knowing already, so I used the only thing I did know. "Because of the `Marky situation'." He looked down. "Uuuugh. Yeah." He was quiet for a moment, and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he didn't have to expound if he wasn't comfortable when the floodgates opened. "I don't get it, why did Marky's dad have to be so mad? It's not like I was forcing Marky to do anything. It's so awkward he told my mom, and now I'm not even supposed to talk to one of my best friends until they figure out what they're going to do. This whole thing sucks." He capped his tirade with an amusingly aggressive chomp into his pizza. At least, it would have been amusing were it not for the obvious pain he was in. ~Not like I was forcing Marky to do anything.~ That was a statement with a lot of possible implications. The *obvious* one came to mind, of course, since most other forms of mischief two boys could be into where forcing or not forcing was a paramount issue tended to involve more ambiguity about who was the more active participant. Still, it seemed prudent to choose a response diplomatic enough to cover all the possible bases. "I'll let you in on a little adult secret, Tom - most parents don't understand their own job description, most of the time. A lot of them get it into their head that they're supposed to *make* their child be something particular, rather than help their child *discover* who they are and steer them to think things through. Know what I mean?" "I think I do," the redhead replied, after swallowing another bite of pizza. I appreciated that he had the manners to not talk while chewing. "Dad's not like that though. And I always *thought* Marky's parents liked me and were really cool." Some sadness crept into his voice as he added, "I've never seen his dad so mad before." It seemed like one of those moments when touch would communicate empathy more than words could, so I placed my hand on his back, and he leaned into it. "I'm kinda glad my dad told you about this so I can talk about it," he admitted, looking up at me. "Dad's cool with it and all but it's nice to talk to someone else too." "Well if you feel comfortable enough," I stated, leaning back a bit in the couch, "why don't you tell me the story in your own words. Your dad has a tendency to add his own perspective to things, he might not have highlighted the details that are important to you." Or, y'know... any details at all. "Alright, I guess, since you already know basically what happened," he agreed nervously, his voice quivering a bit. "But please it's embarrassing enough... don't laugh at me or anything." I offered a solid nod of agreement. Tom was down to the pizza crust now, and seemed to ponder taking a courage bite before thinking better of it and putting it back on his plate, leaning back like I was. "So Marky is one of my best friends, of course. He's in a grade lower than me at school but we play a lot of games online together. He's, um, I dunno, really cool." He fished his cell phone out of his pocket. "Here, I can show you a picture of him." Pulling up a photo album on the phone, Tom selected one picture, making it big and holding it out for me to inspect. For a moment I thought it was the boy from the commission, as astronomically unlikely as that would be. Sure looked like him, or at least a younger version of him. "Handsome young man," I commented, handing Tom's phone back to him. "And..." The youth hestitated for just a moment before sort of rushing his confession out. "And um, so well Marky and I have been playing around for a while. And just my luck his dad got home early the last time I was spending the night there for a sleepover and caught us....doing stuff." "So I guess I should start with the obvious question," I replied, leaning forward on the couch. "Was the 'stuff' you were doing with Marky all about what was going on here," at which point I reached hand just above Tommy's crotch and pointed at it, causing him to squirm a bit. "Or, was there also stuff going on here?" And with that, I rested my hand atop the boy's chest, right above his heart, letting it linger there for a moment to feel the racing young heartbeat before pulling away. He blushed at the question, but didn't shy away from it. "I dunno. I think both. We don't really talk about it too much like that I guess, it kinda started with truth or dare one time and we just.. kept having fun. I really like him but I have no idea if he would... feel that way about me." I took a bite out of my largely untouched pizza while I absorbed what he was saying. "Alright," I nodded solemnly. "Thank you for telling me about it, Tom, I know that probably wasn't easy for you." I chuckled a bit. "Of course, the rest of the puzzle is very easy for me to put together. It makes perfect sense why your dad chose me to harbor you two. I'm already quite well aware of what your mom thinks about the whole thing." Conspiratorially, I leaned in, mock whispering, "There's a reason I never drive down there to see you guys, y'know." "Ummmm why's that?" he said, glancing up at me with those naive green eyes. I rolled mine, ruffling my hair for a moment before getting up and heading to my hutch. "I swear, you are your father's kid. So smart and shrewd when it comes to the complicated stuff, so dense when it's about simple inferences." I yanked a small pride flag out of one of the drawers and gave it a wave. "Is this enough of a clue?" "Oh... OH!" he said, it finally clicking. "You're gay?" Yup, I confided, moving over to my young guest and handing the flag over. "Here. Mazel tov." "Why does that stop you from coming and visiting though...gay people can still drive, right?" he asked, giggling a bit. I winced inwardly for a moment, not sure exactly how much of the story I should tell without clearing it with Mike first. I decided the basic version was safe enough. "Well, about twelve years ago, your dad and I tried setting up a double date," I explained. "I'm not sure how much you know about life before you existed, but your mom was up here for college and your dad and I were the local boys, as it were." I reached out for my drink (an orange soda) and took a swig from it. "I'd sort-of known her for a few months already, she was in one of my classes, but we weren't close. Anyway, I'd been out of the closet for so long, it just never occurred to either me or your dad to mention that the date I'd be bringing was also male. She found out at the restaurant and she... well, let's just say she didn't take it well." I shrugged. "To be fair, she had big news to deliver that night. The news that YOU were about to enter the picture, if y'know what I mean, which honestly is the only reason your dad didn't dump her right there, I think." "Whoa, I never knew that," Tom declared, raptly attentive to the story. "Mom never seemed like she was... homophobic, but I guess I could see her being uncomfortable. What did she do?" Again, I met his question with a rise and fall of my shoulders. "Your standard dinner scene ruckus." Another swig of the drink to finish it, and then I collected both plates, moving to the sink as he talked. "Don't get me wrong," I called over my shoulder, "it's not an 'all gay people are going to face the righteous damnation of God' kind of homophobia. She just has..." I searched to find the right words, but everything I came up with was likely to lead to questions I didn't want to answer. "I don't think there's a way for me to really explain it without betraying confidences," I admitted. "Let's just say that she's not comfortable with the gay lifestyle being closer than a certain distance. It was a problem when it was her boyfriend's best friend and it'll definitely be a problem when it's her kid." "I mean, I dunno if I'm really gay," Tom remarked, "but um, I never thought it was that big of a deal. Dad always told me however I feel is ok." "And however you feel IS okay, and don't let anyone tell you different," I agreed. "Gay or not gay, that's not super important in the grand scheme of things, and I'd be surprised if you did know today which you were going to be as an adult, just like I'd be surprised if you told me for sure you'd be five foot ten. Which, y'know, given who your dad is, give up on that dream now, shorty." I headed over to the computer and sat down in one of the chairs. "The person standing in front of me today, though, is someone who 'really likes' a boy that he finds 'cute', and as far as your mom's concerned, that's as gay as it gets." Tom nodded, shifting around a little uncomfortably. I wasn't sure why for a moment, until he asked the question he was clearly working up nerve to ask. "So um.. where's your boyfriend?" I thought about where Kyle was likely to be at that moment. Either baseball practice at the local park or sucking someone off in a grocery store refrigerator. Of course, he didn't really think of himself as my boyfriend, and for the purposes of this conversation I was inclined to agree with him. "You already met him," I said, grinning impishly, "but I suppose I should do a formal introduction." I raised my left hand and tilted it sideways, making the thumb move up and down as though it were a 'mouth'. "'Hi Tom, I'm Lefty Tuggerson, and Gary's my *main squeeze*!'" The preteen who may or may not be gay was still definitely a boy, and that put him into fits of uncontrollable giggles. "Oh man that was a lame joke!! I mean I guess Mr Righty Tuggerson is my boyfriend too but like... its always nicer when its someone else. Why don't you have a boyfriend?" I looked at my right hand, feigning shock. "Wo, you been visiting Tommyville when I'm asleep or something?" I asked it. "You're gonna get me in trouble!" I hoped that the innuendo would let the boyfriend question hang unanswered, as I really didn't want to lie to him and I couldn't think of a compelling way to present the truth. True, Kyle's at an age now where sleeping with him is just really taboo rather than illegal, but it was just another rabbit hole I didn't feel like going down. It worked, of course. What kid can resist a good masturbation joke? "I meant MY right hand!" he declared between giggles, sitting down so as to prevent literally falling on the floor from laughter. It was more than that, though -- his laugh seemed exaggerated, and his hands weren't wrapped around his belly. They were... lower. His next statement confirmed my suspicions. "So um... all this talk of hands is making me need um... to..." He couldn't quite bring himself to say it outright, shuffling embarrassedly to the staircase. "Nevermind, I think I'm... going to go to the bathroom again." A more sensitive adult might not have let on that they understood exactly what the youngster was going off to do, but that's just not my personality. "Just don't clog the shower drain," I called up after him, turning towards the computer and shaking the mouse to wake it up. "I'll be down here if you want to hang out more after you're done... umm, 'going number three'." It was an old term Kyle and I had come up with when he was a kid for masturbating in the bathroom. After all, if number one is pee and number one is poo, then assigning a number to sperm just seemed like a logical progression. More giggles followed him up the stairs, followed by the distinct sound of two doors slamming shut. The second one made me laugh -- clearly he really *had* gone into the bathroom, which meant the sugar gliders were probably still running around in the bedroom. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- I tried to focus on drawing, but I was too horny. How could I NOT be horny, knowing that a cute young boy was pleasuring himself upstairs? So I reached for my own cell phone and texted Kyle. me: guess whos going number three upstairs kyle: lol kyle: dont u wish i was there now me: really REALLY do. whatcha doin? kyle: tossing the ball around with Cyrus me: yeah? You tryin' to steal third base there? kyle: ewww perv :) me: I have no idea what you mean, I was just talking about baseball kyle: right... yknow Cyrus has a little brother me: shush you kyle: I have no idea what you mean, I was suggesting a friend for your guest me: you just want an excuse to come over kyle: i need an excuse nao? :/ me: awww me: actually you should come over Wednesday me: Tom and Mike would enjoy seeing you kyle: u done playing counselor already? me: turned out to be an easy one (well maybe a little hard actually) kyle: oh I want details now me: sorry not my secret kyle: pout... maybe im busy wednesday then me: maybe I'm cooking lasagna kyle: so what time wednesday? :) me: dunno lemme run it by mike... text you later kyle: l8r old man <3 I put the phone down. The textual foreplay didn't do much to calm my libido, but it did help me sort of keep it from raging. I decided to go splash some water on my face and shave off the five o'clock shadow. I didn't look *too* badly in the mirror, although I was already starting to get a few premature grey hairs. An embarrassing trait for someone not even forty yet. My dark hair and eyes were a striking contrast to Tom's or Kyle's lighter fare. I thought back to Kyle's blooming blond pubic hair, idly wondering if Tom's was going to come out reddish as well. Or if it has already started. Probably not the best thought roads to be going down, I surmised, and attempted to literally douse them with cold water to the face. I was definitely going to have to acclimate to my houseguest's presence. He had certainly become easy on the eyes over the last six years. And the thought of him having a little experience was stimulating to think about! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- After feeling like I could keep myself suppressed again, I stepped to the edge of the stairs and called up. "Can I interest you in a movie or a game, bud?" Tom appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at you with his soft green eyes, "Sure, what kinda movies or games do you have?" "Oh, a little of everything," I replied, smiling up at his houseguest from the bottom step. "Come explore your options if you'd like to choose." "Okay, Uncle Gary," he agreed, coming down the stairs. "I'm up for whatever. My phone needs to charge for a bit anyway." I could sense the lameness in his joke even as I delivered it, but it spilled out of my mouth anyway. "Ohhh no, a preteen with a dead phone? I'll make sure to speak well of you after you die from being disconnected from it." I stepped back over to my computer, opening one of its folders. "For movies I tend to lean towards the older ones, lots of great and awesome stuff you might not know about. Princess Bride? Classic." I gestured to the other side. "For games, I'm a few of the new ones mostly. Plenty of stuff on Epic, Origin and Steam. Yes, even Fortnite, since I assume that's something you play also." Tom rolled his eyes at the phone joke and followed me to my computer, standing next to me. "Actually Dad showed me Princess Bride years ago! And for your information, Minecraft is totally better than Fortnite. I dunno if I want to watch a whole movie right now... maybe you can just show me your favorite scene from a movie then I'll see if I want to watch the whole thing?" I gave a nonverbal cue of encouragement at the preference for Minecraft, and stayed generally mirthful throughout Tom's proposal. "Alright, I'll make you a deal... you choose a *type* of movie, like horror or comedy or drama or sci-fi, that sort of thing, and I'll pick a scene that I think can hook you." "Deal!" Tom said gleefully. He pondered for a moment, suddenly blurting out, "I choose porno!" He giggled with a naughty grin, watching for my reaction. Somehow, I managed not to draw any attention down to my pants. I gave him an 'oh really' kind of look, snickering. "Well, it may shock you to know that I don't actually have any porn movies, I prefer stories for that sort of thing. But I suppose 'Exit to Eden' might come close..." I slipped over to YouTube and loaded up a scene. Tom watched with intrigue as the opening scene of the movie played, in which the boy on screen knocked over a bowl deliberately. His jaw dropped as the boy's pants were pulled down and he was spanked by the big-breasted woman. He looked at me, shocked, all kinds of questions obviously starting to run through his head... but the shock turns to amusement as the boy on screen grins, obviously enjoying the spanking. "Oh my god that is funny! What in the heck is this movie about?" "International jewel thieves, believe it or not," I replied, trying to seem oblivious or unconcerned with the new thought lines that the clip's implications might have opened up for Tom. Inwardly I was already nervous about having started down this rabbit hole. "But they hide out at a sex island so the cops chasing them have to go undercover to the island to catch them. It's sort of a long story, but, y'know... closest thing to porn I've got." With a look that is half-sympathetic and half-teasing, I added, "It's all straight couplings though, I'm afraid." "Straight couplings? Jewel thieves? A sex island? That is the weirdest description of a movie I've ever heard. I have to find out how the heck this all ties together..." Tom looked around the room, and then glanced back at me. "Where can we watch it?" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- (Author's note: I wasn't going to put that last little scene in this chapter, but it seemed appropriate to give anyone interested in full immersion time to actually go out and watch Exit to Eden. The plotline of that movie will, for obvious reasons, feature heavily in the next chapter.)