Date: Thu, 14 Feb 2008 10:34:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Simply Irresistible (1)

   This is a fictional work depicting sexual activity between an adult
male, and a teenage boy. If such matter is unacceptable, or less than legal
for you or your local, please move on. On the other hand, if you read it,
and like it, I'd love your comments at the email below.

(1)


   In practice, my long held attraction for young boys had never seen the
light of day. Call it repressed desire, or call it an abject fear of the
rather severe consequences that were likely to ensue if one indulged the
desire, and were found out. To my somewhat contained thinking which
doubtless heralded from my engineering education, the risk simply didn't
justify the indulgence, so I long suffered in silence, keeping a firm lid
on my dark desires, other than in my oft indulged fantasies, and subtle boy
watching pass time.

   As I approached my late thirty's, I had pretty much resigned myself to a
sex life that while not completely on a par with that of a Tibetan Monk, it
was darn close. Oh, I allowed myself the odd dalliance with a young
twenty-something when the opportunity arose, if you will pardon the pun,
but none came even close to what I was certain would be the unmitigated joy
of lying naked with some delectable young boy. Having enjoyed that
particular experience when I was a teen myself, I felt comfortable with my
position on the matter, and, it frustrated me no end that I had taken a
solemn vow to suspend all forms of sexual activity with young boys upon
reaching my eighteenth birthday, and, so-called "adult" status. Funny how
random the law is, as if my reaching the eighteenth majority would somehow
forever change that which had been perfectly acceptable just one day
before. Go figure.

   In any event, I had faithfully upheld my pledge to myself, at least in
the pure physical sense, and regretfully shied away from all pursuit of
bedding some nubile young boy, not withstanding my unwavering desire to do
so. And believe me there had been more that a few opportunities along the
way, I was certain. If one harbors a desire such as mine for along enough
time, a certain skill set develops, a kind of innate ability to "read the
tea leaves" as it were, and I had become rather adept at recognizing
certain small indicators that some young boys seemed to transmit which told
me they, too, had an interest, or at least a burgeoning curiosity,
regarding what it might be like to engage in some sexual experimentation
with an adult man. It wasn't a frequent happening by any stretch of the
imagination I assure you, but on occasion, I would encounter one of those
surreal kind of moments when in the company of a certain boy that told me
he was clearly sending subtle signals that he would not be adverse to any
advances that I might offer, were I not such a complete coward.

   As I had moved through my twenties, and early thirties, I had combined
my love of both boys and baseball by volunteering as a coach with the local
American Legion Baseball program. Doing so satisfied both my life long love
of the American pass time, and my need to be in some way close to the
objects of my sexual desires, and the program did so in a way that was not
only filling a civic need, but at the same time filling a much more
personal need, at least to some degree. Over the course of my years
involved in the program I honed those skill sets that I mentioned earlier,
and I actually became quite adept at identifying the more menial lads among
the groups, ones that were clearly receptive to my mild attempts at
flirting with them. The varying degrees of receptiveness the boys displayed
was pretty amazing, running the gamut from uncertain curiosity, to mild
interest, to far more blatant displays that stopped just short of a boy
simply stating "go ahead, ask me Coach, and I'll say yes." It was the
latter, of course, that seriously tested my resolve, and in a few extreme
cases the boldness of the boy actually drove me away from him, save for the
infrequent situations where some kind of one-on-one coaching was required,
though not of the type I most desired to deliver.

   It seems a sort of strange phenomenon of nature that the planet is
literally teeming with horny young boys who are very nearly boiling over
with the need and desire to release their pent-up sexual desires, while at
the same time there are legions of adult men like me who are eager to
provide exactly that opportunity in a safe and nurturing way, and yet, that
win-win scenario is stamped in bold letters, "Child Molestation," and as
the saying goes, "fourteen will get you twenty-to-life." Sigh.

   It has been said by many a wise scholar that fate plays a serious role
in the destiny of us all, and, during the month of July over this most
recent summer, I became a staunch believer in that particular idiom. The
source of my coming to accept that belief was a ten day vacation visitor to
my next door neighbors in the form of their just-turned-fourteen year old
Grandson from Maryland. His name was Ryan, and I had actually briefly met
him on a previous visit two years ago when he was still short of his
twelfth birthday, and far less mature in appearance than he was on this
recent visit. And, I quickly learned, as Ryan, his Granddad, and I stood on
their driveway chatting, the boy had absolutely blossomed in his naturally
outgoing personality, and his surprising articulation skills, as he all but
capitalized the conversation while he blurted out what sounded very much
like a mini-recitation of his life story, complete with an absolutely
glowing recount of his pure joy at being allowed to make his cross country
sojourn minus any form of adult supervision, and, his equal joy at being
with his Grandparents in California for a summer visit. His abject glee,
coupled with his bubbling sense of humor, and his magnanimous gestures
while chattering non-stop, were in a word infectious, and in mere minutes
he had me hooked completely, including in several ways that were, well,
less than puritan on my part.

   Picture a boy who is mere days past his fourteenth birthday, who is as
yet less vertically gifted than are so many young teens of the current
generation, and slender of build, registering, for the record, at around
five feet six, or seven inches, and maybe 130 pounds. He wasn't movie-star
good looking, but more of a "cute" looking boy, with a cherubic kind of
face, that very "boyish" look that I so love. His hair was a dark shade of
brown, and worn in the currently popular overly-long, overly-shaggy style,
and it nearly covered his smallish ears at the sides of his head, while
other errant strands drifted across his smooth forehead. His eyebrows were
of a similar color, and bushy above his dark brown eyes that seemed locked
in permanent smile-mode, and his tiny pug of a nose seemed perfect for his
youthful face, as did the rather lush mouth that was so expressive as to be
like reading a book as he formed his effusive sentences. At that first
meeting, Ryan was dressed in one of those "golf" type pull-over shirts with
the small collar, and the two-button type neck opening, and a well fitting
pair of denim jeans, with bright white, and obviously new tennis shoes,
with vibrant red slashes highlighting the outer sides.

   The "well fitting" term I use to describe his jeans was a very pleasant
surprise, given that the local boys largely favored the current style of
the God-awful baggy type that looked easily two sizes too large for their
slender bodies, and tended to constantly slide down past their pretty
little asses. In Ryan's case, the jeans actually fit him, so well in fact,
that I could easily make out the enticing bulges and bumps that very
definitely made him a boy, as well as leaving little doubt regarding the
clearly sculpted curvature of his delightful little butt. As I stood there
grinning moronically at his abject perfection, in both appearance and
demeanor, I had the distinctly sinking feeling that my solid resolve
regarding my resisting pursuit of any sort of sexual liaison with an
underage boy was rapidly becoming an alarming imitation of that stately old
vessel, The Titanic, as it silently sank from view.

   So that the reader might better understand the evolution of events that
occurred over the course of Ryan's visit, I should make clear that the
Grandparents he was visiting were elderly, and to varying degrees,
physically limited due to a variety of health issues typical of the
aged. This decline in their mobility would greatly impact their ability to
adequately entertain an energetic and easily bored teen boy, and, as a
result, Ryan quickly gravitated more and more of his abundance of free time
toward me. This blessing, as I thought of it, developed over the first
couple of days of his visit, and rapidly reached the point of my being all
but unable to venture anywhere outside my house without the gregarious boy
appearing as if out of thin air at my side. Pretty rough, I know, but hey,
somebody had to make sure the boy was having a good time, right?

   This development may well have been the first intervention of that
fate/destiny thing that I have mentioned earlier, given that it was soon
evident that the bulk of the responsibility of keeping Ryan entertained and
engaged had fallen to me, as his very grateful elders returned to their
recliners, and big screen television set. As luck (fate?) would have it, I
had several vacation days on the books, and I quickly made arrangements at
my office to accommodate my infrequent presence over the ensuing few days,
thereby freeing myself up to assume the burdensome task of spending a LOT
of time with the cute little object of my dark desires.

   On our first full day, and evening together, I took Ryan bowling, a
sport he was well enamored of given the long months of winter back in his
Eastern home state, and he was actually quite adept at the game. I managed
to keep most of my throws between the gutters, and even scattered a fair
share of pins in the effort, but, my main pleasure in the exercise was very
definitely perving the boy's shapely little butt each time he went low to
deliver his well aimed ball delivery. When he finally tired of the bowling,
we drove to a burger joint that I favored, and pigged out on burgers,
fries, and an abundance of grease, refueling our spent energies. Following
that, we went to a huge box store that the outdoor outfitter Cabela's had
opened the previous year, and spent a long time drooling over the seemingly
unlimited offerings of sporting equipment of every conceivable type. It was
from this experience that I learned that Ryan had an interest in fishing, a
hobby of my own that ran a close second to my passion for baseball. Once
aware of our mutual fondness for the sport, we agreed that our outing the
following day would be just that, a fishing trip to one of my favorite
lakes that was situated in the nearby foothills of the Sierra Nevada
mountain range. That decided, we left the store, and headed back to my
place for a dip in my pool, an event that I relished in the strongest
terms, for reasons that should be obvious.

   Back at home, Ryan zipped off next door to check in with the old folks,
and change into his swim suit. I, of course, was holding out hope that his
tastes would run to the Speedo variety, or perhaps even a thong, but in my
heart, I knew it was wishful thinking. I changed into my own swim trunks, a
pair of the modest board short style, and took a quick check of my
reflection in the mirror. Not half bad, I immodestly decided, once more
grateful for my generally healthy diet and my unwavering dedication to
working out, or at least keeping in decent shape via my coaching
baseball. At an even six feet, my 175 pounds was reasonably distributed
over a well toned frame that while certainly not chiseled with bulging
muscles, was not yet sagging in neglect. I was by virtue of my DNA pretty
much naturally smooth with the preponderance of my body hair being limited
to my groin and lower legs, save for a fine line that traveled between my
navel and my carefully trimmed pubic growth. With out needing to actually
look, I felt confidence in the equipment that was now hidden by the board
shorts, while not deluding myself that my reasonably thick 6+ inches of cut
manhood was going to elicit terror in anyone's heart any time soon. It was,
to put a word on it, average, but it had served me well for a good stretch
of time. Deciding that enough was enough with the self-appraisal, I left
the bathroom, and headed toward the back of the house, and then outside to
the patio.

   About midway across the patio, I skidded to a stop, as my gaze settled
on Ryan, who had apparently let himself into the fenced back yard via the
side gate. He was perched atop the pool ladder, standing on the top step,
with one foot extended as he let his toes test the water temperature. His
back was toward me, and I took a moment to savor the silky smoothness of
his flawless and well tanned skin, and the pleasing definition of his
developing muscles. Dropping my eyes, I took in the succulent curve of his
taut little buns, and then his apparently hairless legs, with their nicely
developed calves, and ankles. While he was not wearing the much hoped for
Speedo, or thong, the trunks style suit he was wearing mimicked the well
fitted jeans of earlier, in that they actually fit his slender flanks
snugly without the billowing extra yards of material most of the local boys
wore. As I finished that thought, Ryan turned toward me, and I had to
struggle to not show the reaction I was feeling, as I settled my gaze on
the front of his trunks, where a clearly discernable outline of his
apparently ample penis was visible. Aware that he was watching me, I knew
that I needed to stop staring at the bulge of his boyhood, but I was so
engrossed with imagining what it would like fully exposed, and erect, that
I let my hungry gaze linger there a beat too long, and when I was finally
able to divert my eyes to meet his, I knew he had busted me. A slow smile
painted over his face, and for just the briefest of seconds a smug little
expression flashed over his grinning face, and then disappeared, as he said
something about the water feeling nice, not cold at all. Finally managing
to regain control, I uttered some inane reply, and then moved to the pool,
and jumped in. Ryan laughed as I surfaced; sputtering and slapping handfuls
of water at his lithe frame, and then jumped in himself.

   We swam, and splashed each other, and indulged in some general grab-ass,
with me lifting him and tossing him several times which offered me the
opportunity to feel his smooth wet skin under my fingers, and even the
momentary opportunity to "accidentally" brush my fingers against his
delectable bulges, and his pert little butt. Finally getting our fill, we
climbed out of the pool, and stretched out on the padded lounges that were
scattered about the patio area. Ryan lay on his back, and folded his hands
behind his head, and then closed his eyes, as he relaxed in the warm
sunshine. I settled back against the raised backrest of my lounge, and
seized the perfect opportunity to carefully look him over; beginning of
course at his middle, where the soaking wet trunks clung to him like skin.

   Oh God, he was stunning, to grossly understate the fact. The wet
material was gathered at his crotch, and the length of his penis was so
clearly defined against the clingy material that it left no doubt that the
boy was circumcised, the coronal ridge of his helmet-like head clearly
visible. I felt my pulse quicken, and my own cock stirred in my trunks, as
I stared at the ample stalk, and the lump of his young balls, my mind
willing the colorful swim shorts to dissolve, and leave him fully naked to
my hungry gaze. Forcing my eyes away from his boyhood, I slowly let my gaze
drift upward, taking note of the delicious little line of dark and silky
hairs that rose from the elastic band of his trunks to his tiny cave of a
navel, and I imagined licking him there, my tongue eagerly following the
descent of that dark treasure trail into the core of him that I was all too
aware rested just behind that thin, wet material. His soft little tummy,
and silky smooth chest rose and fell slowly with his relaxed breathing, and
I stared at the dark little dime-sized nipples that dotted his chest, and
my mouth flooded with saliva as I imagined lapping at them, and the
sensation of my lips closing over them. My cock was fully erect now as I
looked at the youthful beauty of the boy, and I moved my hand to adjust it
in a way to not make my arousal blatantly obvious should he suddenly open
his eyes, and look at me as I sat facing him.

   Continuing my slow perusal of his nearly naked young body, I noted the
smattering of dark hairs that lay nestled in his creamy underarms, and my
rigid cock throbbed, as I imagined licking him there, as well, my tongue
wetting the fine strands of silky hair, as his boyish giggles pealed. I
studied his face then, and again appreciated his cuteness, and his boyish,
youthful look, the complexion so flawless, and fresh looking, with his
overly long eyelashes shading his closed lids. Those slightly bushy
eyebrows were like twin crescents above each eye, and his wet and
disheveled hair clung to his smooth forehead in errant strands, and my
thought was that he was as near to my idea of the perfect boy as one could
possibly be if I had somehow managed to custom order him from the
manufacturer. Unable to resist, I dropped my gaze once more, settling it on
his treasures, and at that very moment his eyes popped open, and he stared
directly me for a moment, and then flashed that same little smirking
expression he had used when he had caught me at it the first time. Busted
again, I thought, damn...and then he very nearly gave he a heart attack, as
he raised his arms above his head, and stretched, his small hips thrusting
upward as his pert little butt rose off the cushion, and his clinging
trunks clung even tighter against the tube of his boyhood, almost as though
he were offering it to me. Unable to stop myself, I let out an audible
groan as I stared hungrily at his clearly defined penis, and he relaxed his
tightly flexed body then, and looked at me, looking at him, and that little
smirk showed itself once more, however briefly. He sat up then, his dark
eyes dropping for just a split second to glance at my own swollen crotch,
before he asked if I had anything cold to drink. Recovering as well as I
could, which actually wasn't very well at all, I nodded, and stood, heading
into the house, ignoring the fact that my raging erection was probably
totally obvious.

   By the time I had retrieved some Cokes from the refrigerator, and
returned to the patio, Ryan had gone back in the pool. When he saw me place
the cold can on the table, he climbed the ladder, and then paused to give
his slender form a raucous shake as I carefully watched the subtle movement
of his penis behind the once more clinging wet trunks. He walked to the
table then, and picked up his Coke, raising it to his lush mouth, as he
took a long pull. Reaching for his towel, he wrapped it around his neck,
and then sat down on the lounge again, raising the back up behind him. He
placed both feet flat on the cushion, and I moved to sit facing him again,
and we chatted quietly as I carefully watched the sagging legs of his
trunks, ever hopeful that his tender young balls might slip free of the
loose material.

   Sadly, that event didn't occur, and after some discussion regarding our
plan to go fishing the following day, Ryan departed, heading back to his
Grandparents for dinner. I showered, using my soapy hand to relieve the
pent up pressure in my balls as I imagined Ryan's delicate fingers doing
the honors, as I did the same for him, and in a matter of minutes, I
ejected a huge load of cum toward the shower drain as I shuddered in
release. I ate some dinner, and spent the remainder of the evening trying
without success to concentrate on something other than the delectable young
boy next door, finally giving up, and going to bed early.

   The following day, as it turns out, was simply a hoot. I honestly can't
recall ever enjoying a day on the lake as much as that day, and I have had
more than my share of great days fishing. Ryan, for a boy of just barely
fourteen, was every bit the equal of any of my past fishing partners, and,
a hell of a lot cuter in a myriad of ways. I have never known a boy of his
tender years with his skill of articulation, nor one even close to his
depth of knowledge, and apparent understanding, of a wide variety of
subjects, and issues. Couple that with his penchant for chattering
constantly, and mix in his rapier-like wit and humor, and trust me, the
formula makes for a highly entertaining, and very relaxing day. The lack of
willingness on the part of the fish to participate in any kind of active
way only made things better by only rarely interrupting my total focus on
Ryan. I couldn't seem to get enough of him, or his dazzling smiles, and his
seemingly endless array of sweet expressions, and a good thing only got a
lot a lot better when the day warmed sufficiently to motivate him to remove
his shirt. This left the little hottie garbed in nothing more than a pair
of small gym shorts, given that his shoes and socks had come off shortly
after we had launched the boat.

   As we continued circling the lake at a slow trolling speed, Ryan
continued his steady chatter, and I continued my steady ogling of his silky
smooth torso, and the very pleasant grouping of bulges behind the little
shorts. The fish continued to be inactive, and the sun grew consistently
warmer, and eventually Ryan began to get restless. He squirmed around on
his seat, and frequently stood up to stretch his cramped muscles, a move
that spiked my pulse into the danger zone as it placed his bulging young
penis in perfect alignment with my face, scant inches from my drooling
mouth. I swore I could smell the boyish scent of him, and his young
genitals, and it took every last bit of my strained control to resist
simply leaning forward to run my tongue over it, and the rest of
him. Finally, as we approached the small island at the upper end of the
lake, Ryan asked if we could beach the boat, and stretch our legs. I
personally was all for stretching his legs, as widely as possible, as I
feasted hungrily on the many charms that rested between them, but I of
course didn't tell him that, but simply steered us to shore.

   Once ashore, we alighted the boat, and he walked a modest distance away
before turning his back to me as he had an obviously much needed leak. I
was disappointed of course that he exhibited a bit of pee-shyness, but
followed suit, relieving my own bladder in the opposite direction. We
walked some, both stretching, and exploring the picturesque small island,
and when we emerged from the tree line on the far side from the boat, we
encountered a perfect crescent of white sand beach that gave way to the
mirror-like and shimmering waters of the alpine lake. Ryan commented on the
perfection of the small beach as we crossed it, and then he bent down to
ripple the still water with his hand. Looking up at me, he expressed regret
that we hadn't thought to bring along our swim suits as the idea of a dip
in the lake sounded really good, so, ever alert to opportunity, I suggest
with a wicked smile that he was more than welcome to skinny dip if he
wished. He flushed, and giggled at the suggestion, and then grew more
serious, as he countered with the suggestion that we might swim in our
underwear. Not surprisingly, I was certainly amiable enough to that idea,
so I quickly agreed. A small awkward moment ensued as we each skinned out
of our shorts, and in my case my shirt as well as my shoes, and I took my
time doing it while I non-too-subtly feasted on the stunning sight of Ryan
standing there in only his very white, and very small briefs.

   It reminded me of those infuriating people that took like twenty minutes
to open a wrapped gift, exposing each layer with agonizing slowness. While
I was getting ever closer to my wish of seeing this delicious young boy
naked, it was progressing with a slowness similar to that analogy. None the
less, he was indeed breathtaking as he shyly folded his slender arms across
his chest, and tried not to watch me undress. Beyond even trying to conceal
my avid interest in his near nakedness, I just stared at him, and tried
really hard not to drool openly. The briefs were the standard y-front
variety, and they molded enticingly to the bulge of his boyhood, and the
plump pouch of his young balls, and I felt my own cock swelling as I looked
at the stunning boy. His eyes followed my gaze as he glanced down at
himself, and a flush of bright pink flooded onto his smooth cheeks as he
realized that I was definitely checking out his stuff. He hesitated,
seemingly caught between his desire to see my shorts come off, and the need
to escape my hungry scrutiny, and then he seemed to decide, as he turned
away, and ran off into the lake. I watched the firm little mounds of his
sweet butt gyrate as he ran, the snug cloth of his briefs wedging nicely
between them, until he plunged headlong into the water. I stood, and
quickly slid my shorts down my legs, and stepped out of them, then followed
his lead as I too plunged in.

   The lake was chilly, but refreshing at the same time, and our laughing
frolic was similar to that we had shared in my pool the previous day. I
again availed myself of the opportunity to brush against him whenever we
were grappling, and he offered no real resistance to my casual touching of
his lithe body, even kind of returning the favor a time or two, or so it
seemed to me, by letting his arm or hand brush over my own package. In
time, the chilly water took its toll, and we decided to go sit in the sun
to warm up, and dry out a little. We made our separate way back to the
narrow beach, and I purposely lagged behind Ryan which provided an
opportunity to check out his tight little butt and it's very inviting
crease that was clearly visible now behind the nearly transparent wet
briefs. In spite of my being cold, I felt my cock stir as I clearly
imagined my hands cupping each of those firm little mounds, and separating
them to expose the pink little treasure that I knew was nestled
there. Forcing myself to shake off the image, I followed him onto the
beach, and we stretched out side by side in the warming sunshine.

   Ryan settled in, and rolled onto his back, once again folding his hands
behind his head as he closed his eyes, and shuddered as he shook off the
chill. I lay on my side, and let my eyes drift over him, savoring the
smoothness of his developing body, and in particular the nearly visible
outline of his penis, and balls that the soaking wet briefs did little to
conceal from my hungry gaze. The temptation to touch him was nearly
overwhelming, and had he not startled me my speaking, I might actually have
succumbed to it, but what he said threw me completely off track.

   "You like looking at me, huh?" he asked in a near whisper.

   My eyes snapped away from his nearly exposed boyhood and shifted to his
face, my mind racing to come up with some sort of workable reply that might
imply my innocence, and I was surprised to see his eyes still closed, which
meant that he had somehow sensed me checking him out, rather than seen me
doing it. Unable to conceive any kind of logical answer to his simple
question, I went with the truth, and told him,

   "Yes, Ryan, I do like looking at you...very much...you are a
very...attractive boy."

   His face curled into a sly little smile that just turned up the corners
of his lush mouth, but his eyes remained closed, and he made no reply,
leaving me wondering what he might be thinking, and if I hadn't, with that
one short exchange, started down the slippery slope to the ruination of my
life as I knew it. I kept looking at him another minute, and realized that
I was holding my breath, waiting, I suppose, for the other shoe to drop.
But, he said nothing more and I again found myself starring at his barely
concealed treasures, and wanting desperately to touch him.  Frustrated, and
more than a little bit unnerved, I forced my self to turn away, and then
turn over, my face buried in my folded arms. I could feel my erection
pressing into the soft sand beneath me, and I tried to ignore it, doing a
backward alphabet in my head as I struggled to quell my arousal, still
waiting for him to say something, anything. Several silent minutes passed,
and then I sensed his stirring beside me as he sat up, and then stood
up. Inhaling deeply, I rolled over, and propped my elbows behind me, as I
looked up at him. He smiled, a kind of wicked little expression on his
boyish face, and then raised his arms above his head, and turned a slow
circle, allowing me to relish his stunning beauty once more. Our eyes met
as he completed the turn, and he pointedly dropped his gaze to settle on my
swollen crotch briefly, as I stared directly at his, and then he produced
that coy little grin again, and said,

   "We should probably go...the fishing really sucks, you know?"

   I nodded, and got up, and we went to retrieve our shorts, and then
walked back to the boat, and pushed off, headed back to the ramp. We stowed
the gear, then trailored the boat, and hit the road for home. Ryan rifled
through my CD case and didn't find anything to his liking, and then settled
back in his seat, and stared out the windshield, saying nothing. His
quietness was completely unlike him, and it worried me more than a little
bit, believe me. I wondered what was going on in his mind, and whether he
intended to rush straight to his Grandparents when we reached home, and
inform them that the pervert next door had been ogling his young body after
getting him nearly naked on the pretense of a swim. That horrible thought
gave way to a rush of even more horrible thoughts as I visualized myself
being carted away in handcuffs and under arrest as a child predator, and I
was nearing a full-on panic, when Ryan quietly said, right out of the blue,

   "It's cool, you know...I actually kind of like you looking at me...like
that."

   Jesus! What the fuck do I say to that, I wondered, my mind racing once
more. "Like that"...what was that supposed to mean for crying out loud..."I
like it"...shit...no, "I kind of like it," he had said...oh man, be careful
here Rob, really careful...and then it occurred to me that the best option
I had here was probably to let him set the pace, if there was to be such a
thing, and not dig myself an even deeper hole than I already had, so I
simply glanced over at him, and tried for a casual smile, as I stated,

   "Cool, indeed."

   There followed one brief flash of the coy little smile, and then, just
as if some switch had been thrown, Ryan turned right back into Ryan,
chattering away in the way he was wont to do. While still somewhat
unsettled by the past hour or so, I too began to relax, and become
reasonably comfortable that I wouldn't, after all, be wearing an orange
jumpsuit anytime soon...probably. The rest of the trip back to town was as
much fun as the trip out had been, and when we reached town, we stopped for
a light snack, then went home.

    Ryan went next door to check in, and I set about washing down my boat,
and putting away the fishing gear. As I exited the garage, I saw Ryan and
his Granddad walking toward me. Granddad asked about the trip, and then
told me that his wife was suffering from one of her frequent migraines, and
he wondered if it would be too much of an imposition if he asked me to keep
Ryan overnight, since a very quiet house was essential to her suffering the
ailment. Trying to not just whoop for joy, I expressed my sympathy for her
condition, and then very graciously granted his request, assuring him that
Ryan's overnight presence would actually be my pleasure, not adding,...I so
hoped. When I got the chance, I stole a quick look at Ryan, and saw that he
was wearing that coy little smirk of his, as he carefully studied the tops
of his tennis shoes. I had to smile at that, and to cover the reaction, I
slid my arm around the boy's neck, and kind of cuffed him, as I said,

   "This will be fun, little bud; we can order in some pizza...and just
make it a guy-night...sound okay to you?"

   He looked up at me, the smile getting wider as a faint glow of pink
washed over his creamy smooth cheeks, and he mumbled softly,

   "Totally okay...like I told you before...it's cool!"

   Giving my silent thanks to whatever mysterious forces had been put into
play to create this incredible turn of events, I decided that opportunity
was indeed knocking...loudly!

(To Be Continued)
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