WARNING: This story is about an affair between a boy and a man. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.

 

Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

 

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Other stories on Nifty by John Teller/The Storyteller can be found here.

 

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The well-dressed boy.

 

By John T. S. Teller.

 

Epilogue.

 

The feelings as I held five-year-old George Francis Washington’s naked body in my arms were of utter contentment. I had both hands entwined under his soft bum, and he had his arms around my neck as he nestled into me, his little head tucked under my chin as we both stared from our lofty perch on the patio of Paradise at the boats in the busy harbour below. Then, in his tiny voice, he asked, “Grandy, which is daddy’s boat?”

 

I knew exactly which one it was. I’d been watching the two small figures busy on the deck for a while. I pointed to it. “There… that one with the two people on it doing things. The one at the back is your daddy, and the one carrying that basket now is Uncle Joel. Can you see them?”

 

George pulled away from me and lifted his head to get a better view. Then he said, excitedly, “Yes!” And he giggled. “They look like little mice down there.”

 

I chuckled and pinched his bum. “Don’t be silly. There’s only one little mouse in Argassi, and I’m holding him.”

 

George giggled and settled back into me. “What’s it like to be really old, Grandy?”

 

I thought about his question for a moment, and then replied, “It’s good, especially when you’re the grandfather of the most beautiful little boy in the world who sometimes pees on me when he gets excited.” George’s reaction was to really giggle and tighten his arms around my neck. And then we heard the loud noise of a car with a damaged exhaust approaching. I moved to the far end of the patio, and we saw the old Fiat Punto coming up the steep incline of the drive through clouds of dust. It could only be one of two people, and because one of them was far below us, and because I was sick and tired of moaning that the exhaust should be repaired, I knew who it was when I said, “Here’s your mummy come to pick you up.”

 

**********

 

“Are you sure you’ll be ok, Frank?”

 

As we sat at the table on the veranda, I cuddled the sleeping baby Adele in my arms, and looked at Rosemarie. “Get that bloody exhaust fixed! You’ll have this little lass growing up deaf! Get it fixed! I’ll be fine. He introduced us last week.”

 

“The noise helps her sleep. I know he introduced him last week, but how do you really feel about it?”

 

I sipped at my iced tea. “Now I’ve met Demetrios, I’m fine.” I half-smiled. “I’m just glad he’s only twenty-three. If he’d been as old as me then I would have been unhappy.”

 

Rosemarie studied my face, but I was good at hiding my true feelings, and she continued, “Joel is really smitten, and Demetrios is crazy about him. Actually, from what I can gather from Harry, Demetrios has been trying to get a date with him for ages, but Joel wouldn’t take him up because of you.”

 

I looked down into the sleeping face of the fourteen-month-old little angel in my arms with a full head of gossamer-like hair that looked like strands of gold: my beautiful Harry’s baby, who I loved with an overwhelming passion. “She’s so beautiful!” Then I looked back at Rosemarie. “How are you feeling now?”

 

“I’m fine. Don’t change the fu… bloody subject, Frank! Harry is worried about you! He needs to know you’re ok!”

 

This time when I spoke, I looked directly into Rosemarie’s eyes. “It’s time. For both of us. Really, I’m fine with it. Joel’s a proper gay person, and I’m not. You know what I mean. I can’t help being what I am. I want Joel to be happy, so the only worry I have is if he gets hurt. I didn’t have that with Harry and you. It was obvious from the off that you two were meant for each other.” I glanced at George playing with some toy cars on the dusty forecourt. He was my pride and joy: beautiful beyond words with his long blond hair and perfect little boy body. I felt no sexual feelings towards him. Like Joel now… he was outside my age of sexual attraction. I grinned at Rosemarie, nodded towards George, and said, “I’ll get somebody in to tarmac this place before winter sets in and it becomes a bloody quagmire again. Anyway, He’ll be ready for me in about seven or eight years.”

 

Rosemarie chuckled. “If that’s what he wants… it’s fine by me, but you’ll be too old by the time he’s ready to do his own thing.”

 

I glared at her. “Oi! I’ll never be too old! I’m a boy-magnet, dontcha know!” Then I grinned at her. “He’ll be fine. I’m not incestuous.”

 

Her face softened. “I’d trust both my babies’ lives with you, Frank.”

 

I nodded to tell her that her comment was appreciated, and then asked, “What’s this Demetrios boy really like?”

 

Rosemarie sipped her iced tea, and replied, “He’s a lovely lad; quiet; unassuming; a bit shy; he doesn’t trawl the gay scene. He comes from a large family: seven boys and two girls. He and his older brother do the fishing and supply their father’s restaurant as well as other places. Apparently, they’re very good, and they earn a good living.” Then Rosemarie smiled. “And he’s damned good looking. I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to him if he wanted to get my knickers off.”

 

I chuckled. “You always were a tart! I told you on your wedding day that I didn’t know what Harry saw in somebody as common as you.”

 

Rosemarie laughed. “Liberal is the word, Frank, and you never answered my question that night if I recall?”

 

I laughed. “I seem to pick boys with ultra-stamina that wear me out. I hope Demetrios knows what he’s getting himself into with Joel.”

 

That comment made Rosemarie burst into laughter and nearly spill her tea. When she’d recovered, she said, “He’s built like a Greek God, so he should last an hour with Joel.”

 

More chuckles from me. “Let’s hope he has the staying powers of Zeus then. He’ll need them… and a good ‘thunderbolt’ if he’s to keep Joel happy.”

 

Tears were rolling from Rosemarie’s eyes when she gurgled, “You had Harry for umpteen years, and Joel for seven, so you can’t be lacking in the ’thunderbolt’ department yourself.”

 

I stood up with Adele cradled in one arm, pointed a finger at her, and said, “Go home you disgusting tart, and take your two sprogs with you!”

 

After both kids were strapped in their baby-seats, I kissed each on the forehead, and then leaned into the car and gave Rosemarie a kiss on the cheek. She grinned at me. “We’ll be up soon when we’ve sorted a few things. See you later.”

 

I smiled, and she reversed and drove away down the dusty path. I waved until they were out of sight, and then went back into the house to think.

 

**********

 

It had been coming for a while now. If I was being honest with myself, for about two years from when Joel was eighteen and as fit and lithe and athletic as any young man his age. He was still utterly beautiful, but the vital ‘boy ingredient’ that was my turn-on, had left him, and I knew it. So did Joel, but he was gay and needed male sex. So, even though the sexual part of what we were declined, we both carried on as if everything was normal. Every day almost, my bronzed young God went off with my older bronzed God, Harry, to work at their tourist business on the 3rd upgrade boat since we arrived here. (A better boat meant more business.) Money was never a factor in what they did. I had plenty, and they required very little. Once we became ‘native’ we soon discovered that the cost of living here was ridiculously low with the system of barter and cash-in-hand and almost no taxes. They funded the three upgrades out of their profits and not from my stash. Even without asking, Joel was brought in as a partner as soon as he finished school. It had all gone so wonderfully well, and the icing on the cake was the birth of George and Adele, my two beautiful ‘grandchildren’.

 

Until, that is, Joel was very silent one evening a few weeks ago. I asked him what the problem was, and he burst into tears. It took an hour of coaxing to get out of him that he was in love with Demetrios, and had been for a while. Yes, I was shocked, and hurt, but I didn’t let Joel know that. Instead, I told him all the things he wanted to hear: that I was pleased for him and all that mattered to me was that he was happy. I told him that him coming into my life when he was a young boy had been exactly what I wanted, and that I was always aware that one day we would come to this situation, just as had happened when Harry grew up.

 

This situation. Yes, that was the truth of it. Joel was gay and needed a gay partner, and I was a hebephile and Joel had outgrown the adolescent stage. He was now a man and my sexual leanings were for adolescents. So we went to bed, made love in a very, very loving way, and talked it all out. The result was that he would bring Demetrios to dinner one evening.

 

The meal hadn’t been as difficult as I imagined it would be. Although they sat by each other, and Harry and Rosemarie had sat each side of me, Joel and Demetrios never ventured into tactile affection territory. But I could tell by how they looked at each other that the feelings were mutual. After dinner, they all went off into town and it was in the early hours when Joel arrived home in a taxi. He’d had a bit too much to drink, and when he was tipsy it always made him emotional. I’d gone to bed; he came to me; wrapped his arms around me, and then he cried. We made love beautifully and slowly, for a long time, and I cried, too, because I knew we would never make love like this again. But it was not like I’d felt with Harry - a feeling of guilt that I’d let him down badly. This was different. It was a mutual parting of the ways. Joel had fallen in love with someone almost his own age, which is always what I hoped he would do. And afterwards when Joel had fallen asleep and I was thinking things through, the mentoring part of me really kicked in: the second stage of love for people like me.

 

**********

 

It was just turned four in the afternoon when Joel screeched the Jeep to a halt outside the house. I was sitting on the side veranda and the dust was all around me. I waved my arms to clear it and show my displeasure, but Joel just grinned as he walked towards me. This wasn’t the little Well-dressed Boy that I’d first met and fallen in love with, he was now six feet tall and had muscles on his muscles. He was a fine specimen of manhood; naked except for his shorts and sandals. His superb legs and arms were covered in fine, downy hair, but his upper torso was almost hairless. His auburn hair was bleached by the sun, turning it two or three shades lighter, but it went well with his beautiful brown eyes. But I couldn’t see those: they were covered by a pair of Aviators. He came round the back of me, wrapped his arms around my neck, put his grimy face next to mine, and said in his deep, mellow voice, “Hello, Old Man. Have you missed me?”

 

“You stink! Sod off and get a bath!”

 

He laughed. “We’ve had a good day today. Four trips. We could have had another two if it wasn’t somebody’s special day. Are you ready for the party?”

 

I put an arm up and pulled his head even closer, turned, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m ready, but I’m not doing a damned thing. I told you I wanted a quiet party.”

 

He kissed the top of my head. “No chance, Grumpy Old Man.” He did a quick check on his wristwatch. “The caterers should be here in thirty minutes to set things up.”

 

“The caterers?!”

 

“The caterers. We don’t have enough tables and chairs to accommodate everybody, and there’ll be a few guests sleeping over afterwards.” When he saw I was about to object, he quickly added, “Don’t worry! Most of them are used to dossing down anywhere.”

 

“Dossing down anywhere?!”

 

Again he giggled. “It’s a party, Old Man. Just relax and let us youngsters look after you. I mean, you being old and that sort of stuff, so we have to look after the old people. Just make sure you put your incontinence pad on.”

 

I laughed and shook my head. “Go away and have a bath! You stink!”

 

When he’d gone, I got up and fetched a bottle of red and a glass. I didn’t usually have a drink until six at the earliest, but what the Hell! It was my 50th birthday!

 

**********

 

I had an almost permanent grin on my face as I watched Joel organising the party furniture as they unloaded it from two pick-ups that were piled high, and at the same time some guys were setting up a small stage for whatever the boys had lined up in the music department. When I asked Joel what music we would be having, he just tapped the side of his nose and told me to mind my own business. He’d showered, but was still wearing hardly anything. But he did have something on that aroused me: a liberal dose of Lavender scented body spray, and I smiled inwardly at the thought that Demetrios had better get to like it. Or maybe not? The boys wore it for me. Joel wouldn’t want thoughts of me in his mind when he was making love to ‘Zeus’. That thought made me really smile. Both Harry and Joel were insatiable lovers, so Demetrious had better start taking extra vitamins! When the two pick-ups had gone, along came a large van containing the food and drink, which was put in the wine-cellar to keep cool. No sooner had that departed than along came Harry and Rosemarie in their noisy banger. When they got out of the car and made their way through the newly set up forecourt, I asked, “Where are the kids?”

 

Rosemarie grinned at me. “It won’t be too long before they’re asleep now. Cossima is baby-sitting for us.”

 

Like Joel had done, Harry came behind me and held my head in a vice-like grip. “Happy birthday, Old Man. I love you.”

 

I tilted my head to one side and he planted a long, juicy kiss on my cheek. Like Joel, he was smothered in Lavender scented body spray. They didn’t always wear it, so I knew they’d discussed putting it on because they knew it was my favourite. Which begged the question, what else had the two monkeys been planning during their working time together? All this lot was their idea, and together with Rosemarie, they’d done all the planning. I’d pretended that I wasn’t pleased with them, but secretly I was over the moon that they cared so much. It’s nice to be loved. I looked up at him. “I’m going to have a shower and get changed.”

 

Rosemarie chuckled. “Do you want me to help you, Frank?”

 

Harry turned on her. “Oi, you… don’t stray into my territory!”

 

Joel, who had just joined us, said, “Both of you can fuck off! He’s my man!”

 

They all giggled; I chuckled, got up and went to get a shower.

 

**********

 

The party was in full swing; about a hundred guests in attendance; a background of musicians on the stage dressed in traditional Greek dress playing the laouto and lyre and flute and bouzouki and piano-accordion and other instruments, and the music echoed from the hills in a crescendo of fun and melancholy. The reason I loved this beautiful place was because of the wonderful people who lived in this small, Ionian island. Despite occupation and numerous earthquakes, nothing could stop these folk dancing and enjoying life to the full, especially when there was something to celebrate. It took only a bottle of Ouzo and some mezes to chew on, and the dancing world was their oyster. The one thing I’d insisted on was that there were to be no presents; just the presence of the people who, during the last seven years, had enriched my life. And they were nearly all present. Apart from the locals of the butcher the baker and the candle-stick maker, and the doctor and the banker and the chestnut-seller, there were also the friends of Harry and Rosemarie and Joel who made up the gathering. Some were young Brits and Yanks and Frogs and Germans and Scandinavians, and even a couple from Australia amongst the assembled ranks. Yes, it was as motley and cosmopolitan and carefree group of folk that could possibly have danced the night away in Zakynthos, and I was more than happy that they were sharing this special day with me.

 

At the ‘family table’ were my two beautiful boys: Harry and Joel, and Rosemarie and Demetrios, and an old islander who had become my friend over the years: Agathias. He was seventy-four years old; but apart from a face that looked like a pickled walnut, he had a bronzed body as lithe as men twenty years younger, and he acted like them. Although he’d never asked, I was absolutely certain he knew of my disposition and what Joel and I were to each other. That’s why when he saw Joel and Demetrios together, he gave me a quick, enquiring glance. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled; he winked and raised his glass; I lifted mine, and we both did a hidden toast to the two new lovers. He didn’t give a shit. But why should he? Zakynthos was not the politically correct Mainland Europe or the US. This island had been spawning openly gay love for thousands of years, and they were proud of their liberal history.

 

 

********** ********** **********

 

 

The evening sun glinted on the gloss of his hair; a mass of black curly locks that fell to his naked, bronzed shoulders. He glanced at me, and then quickly looked away. But it wasn’t long before he looked at me again. I smiled inwardly. I knew all the signs, and I knew the young man sitting two tables away from where my immediate family were gathered was sending out the first signals of attraction.

 

Christianos was about thirteen; a little taller and more well-built than either Harry or Joel had been at his age. He was an orphan who lived with his grandmother up in hills near Tsilivi, a place about five kilometres north of Zakynthos Town. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him… or admired him. He was just one of many young boys who I found attractive but unavailable, like many of the tourists who gathered on the island during the holiday season. So, even though he was a native, there was no way I would have two-timed Joel, so I didn’t really spend a lot of time fawning over him. The boys had taken a shine to him about a couple of years ago and let him help out, paying him enough for his bus fare and some extra as well as fish to take home to his grandmother. Lots of young boys did the same if they were lucky enough to find kind-hearted boat owners who actually cared. He’d been to the house before, but I hadn’t seen him for a few months. The last time I saw him he seemed far more childish than he acted now. But he’d filled out; become a little taller; even more attractive. Not for a moment did I think the young man would be invited to my birthday party.  Perhaps my boys thought more about him than I thought they did? How did he get here? And then I remembered. Agathias had parked his vehicle down the drive because the car park was full, and Christianos walked up the hill with the old reprobate! I was just thinking all this when Rosemarie – who was sitting to my immediate right and could see exactly what I could see – said, “Chris doesn’t look very comfortable sitting with that rowdy lot.”

 

Both Harry and Joel (who was sitting next to Demetrios) turned to look at him. Then Joel pointed a finger at him. Christianos looked puzzled, so Joel waved a hand to signal that he should come and sit with us. There were no spare chairs at our table, so Harry called out that he should bring his chair with him. I thought he might be shy, but a big grin crossed his face, and he was up like a shot and carrying the chair to join us… and he certainly wasn’t shy when he pushed Harry further along the table so he could place the chair between him and Joel. Then he grinned up at Harry and head butted his upper arm. Harry gripped his head in his arm and pretended to punch him in the face, and we all ended up laughing. And that’s when the party really began.

 

**********

 

The Ouzo was going to my head and making me sentimental. Watching my family dancing and being happy was part of the reason, but the whole ambience of a Zakynthos late, warm evening was playing its part. The sun was setting over the sea, so the boys put the outside lights on to illuminate the place, which added an even more surreal beauty to the celebrations. Christianos was helping, too. The secret looks he’d been giving me earlier turned to open ones, and the rapport grew. He was fun… stealing quick sips from the boys’ Ouzo when they were either dancing or not looking, and he received a few taps around the ear when he was caught. When he saw me watching him and not bothering to reprimand him, it became a secret game between us, and we giggled to each other whenever he took a sip or was caught out. And then it happened. He’d broken off from dancing (yes, I had been admiring his lithe young body), and returned to the table. One moment he was stealing a sip of Ouzo from Joel’s glass and we were giggling, and the next moment he was staring right into my eyes with that look I knew so well. It was done: we’d connected. His face became serious, and when I refused to break the look between us, he stared right into my eyes for a long time before he gave me an almost imperceptible nod of the head.

 

The dance ended and the table filled again. I saw him lean up and whisper something into Joel’s ear, and Joel smile. Joel leaned across Christianos and whispered something in Harry’s ear. Harry grinned. I knew they were up to something when Harry got up and went across to the band, who were taking a rest, and had a word in the ear of one of them. Harry raised his hands and yelled something in rapid Greek that I just caught meant everyone had to be quiet.

 

Then the surprise. Christianos looked straight into my eyes, and showing his beautiful white teeth, gave me a massive grin. He got up, walked over to the band, took the Bouzouki from one of the members, sat down, and began to play Horos tou Zorba, or as it’s better known throughout the world: ‘Zorba’s Dance’ from the film, Zorba the Greek, which, as some of you may know, can last anything from three minutes to until the band are knackered.

 

(For those of you who not familiar with it, this video - which is absolutely nothing to do with the author - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaE6zy3fEoU will give you an insight as to how Christianos played. If the boy playing the bouzouki had long curly hair, and if he smiled a bit more, he could have been Christianos’s double!)

 

I sat, open-mouthed as his slim young fingers worked their magic on the instrument, and was even more amazed when he hardly looked at what he was doing, but instead, grinned at me. I began to chuckle, and then I began to clap to the beat of the music as the band joined in with him.  And so did everyone else. It went on and on, and then the tempo quickened, but Christianos never missed a note. I looked at Agathias, and he gave me a massive grin, and winked. And then, with a final flurry and him raising his hand in the air, it was over, and everyone stood up to applaud him. He stood up, bowed towards me, and gave the instrument back to its owner.  I thought that was the end of his act, but I was very much mistaken. He walked to the centre of the dusty forecourt that had been used for dancing, nodded to the band, and they began to play the song again.

 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but if anyone couldn’t see the beauty of this young man in his short green shorts and the rest of his superb little body open to view, then they needed their heads examining. The black curly hair seemed to flow even further down his beautiful shoulders, and when he kicked off his sandals to display his feet, for me there was little left to the imagination. Christianos wasn’t grinning now, instead he was serious as he performed the familiar steps of the famous dance, and his eyes never left mine. I didn’t know what the guests were thinking, but to me it was one of the most erotic things I’d ever witnessed. Then he beckoned a finger at me, and I knew what I was required to do.

 

Everyone applauded when I got to my feet to join him, and he grinned up at me when I fell in with the dance steps, which I knew off by heart by now. To the slow rhythm, my arm across his back and my hand holding firmly onto the warm flesh of his beautiful shoulder, with his arm  around my waist, we danced together for a short while. Christianos was grinning at me in appreciation that I could match his every move perfectly. Then I heard Harry yell at the top of his voice, “Not only do you look like Richard Gere, you can dance like Zorba-the-Greek, you sexy bastard!” I laughed, and Christianos laughed even though I doubted he knew what Harry was on about, and there were roars of laugher from many of the seated guests.

 

And then we were joined by those from the family table. Christianos was on my immediate right; a grinning Agathias to my left; Joel and Demetrios next to Agathias, and Harry and Rosemarie on Christianos’s right. Some guests got up to join us, and soon the whole area was filled until not a solitary person was left seated. The band played louder; the tempo quickened, and when the dance came to its raucous finale, the whole place erupted in euphoric applause. I looked down into Christianos’s beautiful, laughing brown eyes, held out my hand, and when he took it, I shook his warmly, and said, “Thank you, Christianos. That was absolutely wonderful.”

 

He closed his eyes, and nodded slowly. When he opened them, he stared right into me, and said in his accented English, “Harry said I could do it for you if I wanted to.”

 

“And you wanted to?”

 

He nodded, and his voice was almost a whisper when he said, “Yes, Frank.”

 

Everyone was laughing when we returned to the table. Agathias filled our Ouzo glasses, including a half-filled one for Christianos, and we toasted my birthday. I didn’t miss the fact that both Harry and Joel had their arms around little Christanos’s shoulders and were hugging him when we did the toast, and I grinned at both of them when I raised my glass. I’d said that I didn’t want any birthday presents, but the pair of rascals never did anything I told them. What had just happened was the nicest birthday present I could have had, and it was even more special because an attractive boy wanted to do it for me.

 

**********

 

It was turned two in the morning when some semblance of quiet descended on Paradise, and the lounge was full of dossers when I put my arm on Joel’s shoulder, and whispered quietly into his ear, “Harry and Rosemarie have already taken the Blue Room, so you and Demetrios use the Green Room.”

 

Joel stared into my eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

 

I ran the back of my fingers down his cheek and stared into his beautiful brown eyes. Then I smiled, and replied, “I’m absolutely sure. I love you.”

 

Joel’s eyes were misty when he said, “Thank you, Frank. I love you, too.”

 

I nodded, and winked at him. “Don’t wear him out. He looks half-knackered now.”

 

Joel giggled. “He’d better not be.”

 

I chuckled. “I’m off to bed.” I looked across at one of the lounge chairs where Christianos was tucked under a light blanket. He was looking at me, so I waved goodnight to him. He smiled and waved back.

 

**********

 

Although I was tired, as I lay naked in bed, under a thin, white sheet, I couldn’t sleep thinking about the wonderful evening we’d had and what was happening now. Harry had been clever. He’d taken the bedroom across the hall from me, and left the Green Room, which was at the far end of the house, for Joel. He knew that way I wouldn’t hear what was going on in there. Right now my boy would be wrapped in someone else’s arms, probably making love. The thought didn’t sicken me… but I was sad. It was the end of an era. But what now?

 

**********

 

The light was off, but I’d not drawn the curtains so I could look at the melancholy stars that had brought my two boys to me, and think about both of them. My two boys. Yes, they belonged as much to me as they did to anyone. Not that I owned them, but I had been an important part in forming the adults they would become.

 

Harry: the normal young man when we first met. He was a well-balanced, intelligent youngster with a loving and supportive family. He didn’t seek my company to get away from a poor home life or bigoted parents… he chose me because he fell in love with me, and also because I could give him the sexual satisfaction in his life that he desired. And look at him now! A beautiful young man with a lovely wife and two children he adores, and no child could have a better father, and no wife a better husband. He wasn’t groomed or abused, and late in life he wouldn’t be unstable because of our association, and running to a counselor to get treatment for what he chose to do. Harry was the perfect example of intergenerational sex come good; and that’s because The Authorities couldn’t stifle his natural desires and leave him regretting that his early life was not fulfilled. Harry was the real-deal, and the full two fingers to the ignorant control freaks who would have denied what was right for him.

 

But what about Joel? Was our liaison good for him? Unlike Harry, his young life was an utter disaster. No youngster should have gone through what he went through, losing his father at a young age and then suffering the catastrophic loss of almost his entire family in the most terrible circumstances imaginable. If Frank Lee hadn’t been there to comfort him, The Authorities would have done their best for him, but it would never have been enough. No care worker or adoptive parents could have been there for him with a pair of strong, warm arms to comfort him when he woke in the middle of the night in screaming torment as he’d done so many times during those early days after the loss of his family. No care worker or adoptive parents could have stroked his naked body with the kind of caresses that, perhaps, only a mother or I could do, with no desire to change those caresses into something he didn’t want. But Frank Lee did. There were no sexual thoughts in my mind when I was comforting him; just pure love and profound compassion for the beautiful human being who I cared so deeply about. But we got through it: that paedophile and the abused boy. And look at him now! He would never get over the awful trauma of what had happened to him, but Frank Lee had repaired his broken heart and patched up most of the wounds in his mind. He’d grown into a beautiful young man with a healthy body, and now he was about to embark on another chapter in his life with another young man who he loved. He might get hurt from the association, but that hurt would now be of his own making. He was old enough and wise enough to know the pitfalls of falling in love. But if he did get hurt, Frank Lee the paedophile would be around to comfort him.

 

And I was still thinking about my two boys when I heard the door behind me open slowly, and then close just as slowly and quietly. I wanted to turn over and see who it was, but I was afraid to. I heard the familiar rustle of a flimsy garment being shed. It could be any one of…

 

**********

 

I knew immediately who it was when the soft, warm body slipped in beside me, and an arm came across my shoulder. I rolled over and looked into the face above me. The long, curly hair had fallen forward, hiding his beautiful features, so, using both hands, I pushed it back to look into his face. Christianos stared into my eyes, and then slowly lowered his head until his lips nestled against mine. Our lips shared that first loving moment, and then he broke the kiss, and as the scent of lavender wafted up my nose, he whispered, “Joel and Harry said I could if I wanted to. Do you mind?”

 

I stared into the soul of the boy who was already filling me with the familiar feelings I knew so well, and asked, “Do you really want to?”

 

Christianos explored my face with his strong but delicate fingers, and whispered, “Yes, Frank.”

 

I pulled him on top of me, feeling the hardness of his erection on my belly, and stroked the back and soft buttocks and thighs of the new boy who had come into my life, and it all began again.

 

The end.

 

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.