Date: Wed, 13 Jul 2022 17:22:43 +0000 (UTC) From: MC Subject: The Boy at My Door Chapter Six The Boy at My Door by Mitchell Conner Chapter Six Greetings readers: The only truths in this tale are that I did stay at a resort with a swimming pool in Thailand, I was at one time an English Teacher, and bubble butts look good in tight wet swimsuits. The rest is a pleasant fiction. If gay content, descriptions of hot male-on-male sex, romantic love, or actual dialogue in an erotic story offends you please don't read further. This is entirely fiction, a work brought on by a perverted imagination, access to the internet and time to burn. The names, events, activities, and circumstances are fictitious but I try to make them believable. If it's illegal wherever you live, or for your calendar age (not the one you use on apps), stop now. This story is mine: all rights reserved by the author with the exception of its use by Nifty.org. You're welcome to use it to pass the time but not to copy and repost as your own demented work or for commercial purposes. Your comments motivate me and are appreciated, as I've been fortunate to receive emails that have helped me learn and grow as a writer. Outright flattery is also acceptable. I do hope that my stories help pass the time and provide a helpful distraction from an increasingly crazy world. Nifty relies on donations so that you practice the ultimate form of safe sex by reading about it. Those same hands you use for pleasure can also type in a pleasing donation to Nifty. Previously: English teachers work with words but none seemed equal to the moment as I looked at Sam. The only thing that came out of my mouth was a yawn, which the teen matched. A light kiss was exchanged, as though we were fearful of reigniting our passion. I pushed at his hip to roll him away so I could spoon from behind, our bodies matching up like yin and yang. It was a coma-level sleep populated by dreams of the tumultuous week leading up to this moment. "Wake up! Wake up!" The little boy's voice was insistent. "Teacher Thomas! Khun Sanun! Mom say wake up." And we continue: `Who gets up early on Sunday?' I thought, then opened my eyes to look at the clock. Nine-fifteen. We'd overshot our usual school day wakeup by three sleepy hours. Appropriate given Sam going for a triple play last night. Lord, give me the strength, I thought. The bare bubble butt sleeping next to me was exposed, the sheet having been thrown aside sometime during our slumber. The little boy gave an impish grin as I pulled the sheet to cover Sam's half-moon. Ten-year-old Kasem had seen that – and more – before, being as he was the live-in maid's son residing in the Aromdee compound. His mother, Hom, lived up to the definition of her Thai name, `sweet smells,' as those were always wafting from the kitchen. I smiled at the skinny boy wearing only a little pair of well-worn shorts that tended to droop so low only his small nub kept them on. He stood maybe four foot on a tall day and was completely smooth – something I knew from his complete lack of modesty in changing for a swim in the pool. "Mmm..." Sam groaned, returning to the here and now, sitting up, leaning against the headboard. Kasem's eyebrows raised and I followed the pixie-faced boy's stare to a small mountain peak in the sheets covering Sam's groin. The boy pointed and giggled. "Go!" Sam said, putting hands over his morning wood. "Gra juu!" Kasem said, the phrase roughly translated as him seeing a penis. His giggles continued down the corridor separating our adjoining suites from the rest of the family compound. Sam shook his head. "He's not supposed to be in here." "Our fault, we forgot to lock the door," I said, referring to the closed off wing that housed our two suites, of which one was for show, the other for go. "I've caught him watching me shower." "I do that too," I said, grinning. "That's different." "Yeah, I get to help you scrub your back." Sam smirked and glanced at the clock. "Oh my god, we need to get going." Then I remembered, deep dreams having clouded my thoughts this morning. We were flying out today, back to that little beach town for a week at the resort where we'd met. The first three days would be a family reunion of sorts, followed by what Sam called `our anniversary.' Along with a few inches, my lover had grown into a true romantic with a teen-level sex drive, hormones demanding release that I was happy to provide. Our lives were idyllic. Most of my time was spent overseeing Sam's education, providing tutoring and care while his parents and sister were living in the Philippines. His brother, Chan, lived near the university and rarely came home. I'd also become a well-liked go-to substitute teacher at The Academy. At first I filled in for the mysteriously missing Robert, then due to popular demand was teaching a few hours a week. This included a special class on diversity attended by Sam, Chai Son and others of all genders and identities. It was very progressive for a Thai school, and was likely requested by Rom as a way to make amends to those hurt last school year by the not so dearly departed. Sam took pride in being my student in school and at home. The majority of students didn't question our arrangement, but I could tell from knowing looks that some in the diversity class realized the depth of our relationship. "You're so lucky to have Teacher Thomas," I overheard one boy say. "I'd be happy to have him when you don't," another boy added, his tone about horizontal activities, not curriculum. Sam had shrugged and attempted his best poker face which dissolved when he recognized the speaker. It was Aat Pan, the boy from the water park. He gave me an impish smile and turned to chat with Sam. Pan was just starting at The Academy and spoke much better English than he'd let on to that day. Many Thais do that because they're embarrassed to make mistakes in front of a foreigner. Maybe, I thought, but Pan's name meant `daring one,' so it was more about mischief. Speaking of which, Chai Son had quit looking at me as food – most of the time. He'd do a sleepover about once a month at Sam's. I'd sleep in the adjacent suite to give them some privacy to be teens. "It's a big bed... we could share it," Chai said one of those times he looked at me like a dish to eat. "Thank you Khun Chai," I said, using a formal address. "But I'm told I snore so loud it'll keep you awake." Sam gave a confused look at my blatant lie. Chai leaned in with a whisper that shocked and amused me at his persistence. "I wasn't planning on sleeping." After that I avoided any complications that could... umm... arise from being too proximate to hormonally supercharged gay teens. Little heads can make regrettable decisions. Later that day we arrived at the resort, the family having arrived directly from the Philippines with Chan coming tomorrow. Sam and family were shown to three interconnected suites while I was taken to a bungalow. Our bungalow, the same one I'd been in last year. It couldn't be a coincidence. "I'm in our bungalow," I said to Sam while we were swimming late in the afternoon. "Ours?" he said, then it dawned on him. "The same one as last year?" "Yes, any idea how that happened?" I said, thinking he might be responsible. Sam shrugged. "It's very romantic but I didn't do it. At least I know how to get there," he said with a mischievous grin. At dinner that evening on the resort's outdoor patio, I found out who the romantic mastermind was. "Do you like your accommodations, Teacher Thomas?" "Yes Rom, they're quite nice." "I selected it precisely for you," he said, then nodded at Sam, indicating it was a purposeful choice acknowledging our relationship. I smiled, amazed at his thoughtfulness. He answered with his own smile, pleased with what he'd done. After dinner, away from the family and resort guests Rom pulled me aside. "Are you happy, Teacher Thomas?" he said. I pressed my lips together as a wave of emotion rolled over me, only able to nod my head. Rom put his arm over my shoulder. Except for handshakes it was rare for him to be so imformal. "You have made my son happy, therefore I am happy. Under your care he's growing into a man I'm proud to call my son. I'm forever in your debt, Thomas." "And I in yours," I said, my voice catching as I spoke. "I sometimes wonder how my life would've turned out if I had a teacher like you years ago," he said, referencing our revealing conversation about his boyhood infatuation with a male teacher. "But then I look at my family and wouldn't have it any other way, because Sanun shows me what it would've been like." I cleared my throat. "Thank you Rom. Sanun is most fortunate to have you as his father and me to have you as my..." Rom cut me off before I could say `boss.' "Friend," he said, adding a side hug for emphasis. He pulled away. "You'll find an envelope in your room. It has a two year contract in it for your signature," he said, not giving an option to refuse it. "Of course you'll review it first but I believe you'll find it quite generous, befitting what you mean to our family." Good nights were exchanged and the family headed towards their suites, leaving Sam behind. "In three days you'll be staying with me," I said, thinking that for appearance's sake he'd be lodging with family in the meantime. Sam shrugged an `I guess' and smiled. I pursed my lips in an air-kiss and he returned it with his own. As he walked past me he trailed his hand across my ass. I turned to see his cheeky grin and could hardly wait for the three days to pass. As I settled in that evening I realized this was a rare moment of being alone since last year. I reviewed the contract and was astounded: Rom had doubled my already healthy salary. Sitting on the patio, staring at the starry sky, I counted my blessings, going back to the moment of true love I'd memorized after Sam had taken me in this very bungalow. I'd just climbed into bed when a knock sounded, so soft it made me wonder if a small animal was trying to burrow it's way under the door. I stumbled into a pair of shorts lying on the chair and went to the door, pulling the curtain aside to find the noise's source. Soft yellow lights from the adjacent path illuminated Sam's smiling face, making him appear more boyish, turning back the clock to that night a year ago. He stood there in confidence, no longer bashful about desiring the passion we shared, yet still retaining a trace of boyish innocence that fueled my lust for him. My heart thudded with sudden emotion, eyes growing moist as I opened the door. Sam rushed into an embrace, warm tears on my chest as he nuzzled into me. I lifted his chin and leaned down – not not much since he was taller now – and we kissed. Sam pushed back, looking at me, blinking away tears. "When I came to your door that first time I hoped you'd love me. But then... it was more than I ever wished for..." he said, unable to continue as more tears rained down. I cleared my throat so I could get the words out. "Sanun, I may be the teacher... but it's you who's taught me what real love is... I am yours... forever." We pulled each other close, feeling our hearts beat as one, in our own world, no more words needed. The End Dear Readers: I hope you've enjoyed this series. It took me awhile to complete it as I searched for inspiration on how to conclude it without overstaying its welcome on Nifty. It ended where it did precisely because of what the narrator says: no more words needed. I felt that the characters had told their story, leaving you satisfied for sharing an important part of their lives. Their future is up to you, the readers, to imagine what you would like for them. The interim year that I `Rip Van Winkled' with a long slumber was on purpose as well. The story hits the highlights of what happened back in Bangkok and moves us forward to their `anniversary.' Taking more time would turn this into a procedural narrative that I think would bore you, faithful reader. So with that: thank you for the emails and comments. If you have ideas for a continuation I'll read them, it's the least I can do for the time you spent reading and waiting... mostly waiting... pardon me. Who knows, maybe Thomas and Sam will have another adventure? Regards, MC