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.

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The well-dressed boy.

By John T. S. Teller.

Part 3.

The Portland-stone balustrade patio stretched the entire length of the front of the manor house, both left and right from the main entrance, above the line of cars parked about six feet below. To my left with its accompanying noise from the rock band filtering through the heavily lined curtains and double glazed windows was the ballroom I'd just left, and to the right it was much quieter. The only illuminations were bright lights from the main doorway and dim lighting through the heavily curtained windows. I looked left and right, but I couldn't see Joel. I thought that he might be waiting where it was darker, at the right end of the patio. So that's where I went. I was right. I saw his suit before anything else, glinting in the starlight. To say I was nervous would be a massive understatement: I was literally shaking with nerves. When I reached him - standing back in the shadows - I said, "Hello Joel. Harry sent me."

Joel looked down at his feet, then lifted his head, and said nervously, "I know. I asked him to."

I had to take the heat out of the situation, and also ease the nerves that would be affecting young Joel, so I smiled a warm smile, and said, "I'm glad you did. I've wanted to talk to you all evening, but I didn't dare approach you in case your parents objected. I don't want to get you in trouble."

Joel half-smiled. "I know. Harry told me."

I chuckled. "It's a good job we've got Harry."

That seemed to break the ice, and Joel giggled. "What will we do?"

It seemed that Joel had been thinking along similar lines to me, that our meeting was going to be very difficult, if not impossible. But I could tell that he wanted to see me again, and I answered, "I'm not sure, but if you want to see me again, I'll arrange it somehow. It will be difficult, but I will." Then I added just to make sure, "That's if you want to?"

Joel looked up at me, and nodded. "I do, but I'm frightened. If they find out, we'll both be in trouble. What can we do?"

"Are you staying here tonight?"

"No. Dad's driving us back home."

That shocked me. His stepfather had been drinking heavily, and although he wasn't falling about, no way was he fit to drive, especially with two children in the car. That's why I said, "But he's been drinking!"

Joel shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't bother him. He does it lots of times."

"Doesn't your mum object?"

"No. He gets really angry if mum says anything."

My initial assessment of his stepfather was beginning to bear fruit. I had him down as an arrogant bully when we met, and I was pretty good at gauging characters. "How far away do you live?"

"About thirty miles. The other side of Salisbury. Fordingbridge. It's by the New Forest."

I nodded. "I know of it. I've been there a couple of times. I have an outlet in Bournemouth... and one in Southampton." I grinned at him. "I could be spending quite a lot of time at those places if you want me to?"

Joel grinned back. "Of course I do. But what then?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but I'll think of something. Have you got a mobile phone and a computer?"

"Yes. My phone isn't much good. It's an old Nokia that mum gave me. But it works. I've got a computer in my bedroom. Do you want my email address?"

I reached into my inside pocket, took out my wallet, and gave Joel one of my cards. "That's one of my personal cards. My mobile phone number and personal email address are on there. Ring me or mail me whenever you want, just so long as your parents don't find out. Can you do that?"

Joel nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. I can email you every night. Will that be alright?"

I smiled at him. "Of course it will, and we'll work something out. Just make sure your parents don't discover that card." And then I emphasised, "That's very important!" A secondary thought came into my mind, something I had to be absolutely sure about, and I added, "You're sure this is what you want, Joel?"

Joel's reply almost broke my heart. He looked me right in the eyes, and said, "I want to be your new Harry." I couldn't stop myself then, and went to him. It came natural. When I opened my arms, he folded into them and hugged me very tightly. Then he lifted his head. I looked down at the pleading face, and planted a soft kiss on his sweet lips. He responded and made the kiss firmer. Then he broke away. "I have to get back before they miss me."

I nodded. "I know. Off you go then, and I'll wait awhile before coming back in. They won't suspect anything then."

Joel turned to walk away, and then turned back. "You won't let me down, will you?"

I smiled at him, and shook my head. "No. I promise."

I watched him walk away, still shaken at the wonderful experience of meeting him for the first time. I rolled my tongue around my lips to savour the moment of our first kiss, which had stirred my senses to the very core of what I was. I was in love again, and I wanted more... much more of what we'd just shared. I looked up at the starry sky and thought about what Harry had said: It's all in the stars. Venus was low on the horizon. I blew it a kiss, and thought: I'm in your hands now. Don't let me down... please!

**********

Back in the ballroom, I went straight to the bar, sat on a barstool, and ordered a large Scotch. Within a couple of minutes, Harry was by my side. I asked him if he wanted a drink. He grinned. "No. I'm under strict orders. I have to be sober on my wedding night." Then he giggled. "Go on then. A small one. As you know, I'm not very good at obeying orders."

I laughed. "No you're not. I had a lot of trouble keeping you out of my pants at times when you knew you shouldn't have been there."

Harry placed his hand over mine. "But you loved it. How did you go on with lover boy?"

"I gave him my card, and I'll be spending quite a lot of time at my outlets down here from now on."

"Mmmm... sounds good. Your new boy is quite a dancer."

I half-turned in my seat to look across the ballroom. Joel was modern-jiving with a couple of his pals or relatives, and he was obviously enjoying himself. He glanced my way and saw me looking at him, and I was rewarded with a big grin. I grinned back at him, and then I looked away when I saw his parents dancing nearby. His stepfather was having difficulty keeping his balance, and that made me really angry. I looked at Harry. "Do you know his dad is driving thirty miles in that state?"

Harry watched them for a while. "You don't like him, do you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"It won't help if you two are enemies."

"I know that, but a bloke driving in that state with two kids in his car is a fucking shit!" I shook my head. "And they think I'm a danger to kids! What does he do for a living?"

Harry shook his head. "He's a petrol tanker driver. He's a fucking idiot."

I grinned at him. "It's not just me that doesn't like him then?"

Harry's teeth were gritted when he replied, "No. He's a bully and a cunt. Rose has told Denise to leave him many a time. Joel hates him."

I was immediately alarmed. "He doesn't beat Joel, does he?"

"Not to my knowledge, but who knows what goes on inside four walls. Denise is frightened of him. The only thing he worships is little Wendy."

"Who is Joel's real father?"

"He died of cancer. I didn't know him, but Rose said he was a nice bloke. I think Denise married cuntface just for some support for her and Joel." Harry tipped up his glass, drained the Scotch, grinned at me, and said, "I'd better start mixing before I get in trouble. Will you be alright on your own?" Then he laughed. "I'll send one of the young men who fancy you if you need company. I was quite jealous earlier when they swarmed round you, after you came out."

I laughed. "There were a couple of old guys who made themselves known as well."

Harry giggled, patted me on the shoulder, and walked across to Rosemarie, who was with her immediate family. He said something in her ear, and she got up and came across to me. I smiled at her when she arrived, and asked her if she wanted a drink. She made me laugh when she said, "He's sneaked one, so I'll do the same. Get me a G&T, please, Frank."

I patted the barstool beside me. "Sit here. I could do with some beautiful company."

She heaved herself onto the stool, and grinned. "He'll be jealous."

I ordered the G&T, and then grinned back at her. "I don't think so. He loves you, and he knows I wouldn't go there."

She laughed. "I was talking about him being jealous of me, sitting with you."

I grinned sideways at her. "I wish I was like him. I would have married you."

She picked up the glass the bartender put in front of her, and raised it. "Here's to us!"

I raised my glass. "To us, whoever us may be?"

We clinked glasses, and I saw a twinkle sparkle in her beautiful eyes. "To the four of us!"

I took a sip of my drink. "Four?"

She giggled. "You... me... our lover boy... and little fancy-pants Joel over there who adores you."

I giggled. "You're being very naughty!"

She looked right into my eyes. "I know I am, but I'm no prude. If he's old enough to really love you, then he's old enough to make his own way in life. I know one thing... he couldn't be in safer hands. You did a pretty good job on my Harry. He wouldn't be the man he is now if he hadn't met you."

I was deeply touched by her words. It was true. Not only had I been Harry's lover, I'd also been his mentor. His welfare was always my priority. Even before we had sex I was considering how I could make his life happy. Yes, I wanted his body, but I also cared for his spirit. He was a happy-go-lucky boy when I first met him, and I would never have changed him from that. He came to me of his own free will, maybe not fully aware of the consequences of what we would become, but he had a damned good idea. Those thoughts raging through my mind made me quite sentimental, and maybe the few Scotches I'd drunk had lowered my inhibitions, but I felt my eyes misting over. I fought the tears and kept them back, but Rosemarie was aware of what was going on. She put her glass down, linked me, and laid her head against my arm. I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm sorry."

She hugged my arm a bit harder. "Nothing to be sorry about. You loved each other. It was beautiful. Harry still adores you. I'm not the least bit jealous. I'm happy for both of you, and I never want you to go out of our lives. If I'm lucky enough to have one, my first boy will have the middle name of Francis."

Although again I was deeply moved by her words, I decided enough was enough, so I shrugged her off, and said, "You're pissed up again."

She laughed. "If I was really pissed up, as well as him, I'd have you in my bed tonight!"

I laughed. "And why's that?"

"Because then I know he'd be really happy." She giggled. "I know I would!"

I almost spilt my drink with laughing, and chortled, "You're a disgusting tart! I don't know what he sees in you."

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Yes you do! He can't get enough sex. He leaves me drained. Did he do that to you?"

I looked into her eyes. "Mind your own fucking business!"

At that comment, she fell into my arms, and we laughed and laughed, and then we hugged, because then I knew that we loved each other in a very special way: Harry's way. It was in the stars.

**********

The evening was drawing to a close. Many of the guests had left; those that were going home that is and not staying at the Manor Hotel. Some of those who were staying had gone to bed. It was almost one o' clock in the morning. Harry and Rosemarie were still up, as were some of the close family. We were all sitting round a single table. My well-dressed little man and his family were amongst us; opposite me, and our eyes often met. I'd not had a chance to speak to him alone again, but we'd been exchanging glances and special looks all evening, and he never tired of displaying his dancing skills to me. He discarded his jacket and waistcoat early on, and the bow tie, and I was able to study his body better without them. I'd been right when I thought he was slim, and his open neck gave me brief glimpses of pale skin at the top of his chest. His rolled up sleeves also showed slim forearms, and they went perfectly with his delicate hands. Just once I was able to touch him. I'd just returned from the toilets and stopped behind his family to chat to Rosemarie's parents across the table. I leaned over, placing myself between him and his stepfather, and planted my hand firmly on his warm back, softly caressing it as I spoke. I felt the curve of his neck with my roaming thumb, and the delicate bone structure of his shoulder blades with my searching fingers. I knew it affected him, because he shuddered as I was doing it. But I couldn't stay too long, and with a heavy heart, I had to let go of the boy who was filling me with such warm feelings.

Little Wendy had fallen asleep in her mother's arms, and after about twenty minutes, Denise said, "We'd better be going."

I pretended I didn't know they were going home, and said, "Are you not staying here?"

"No. Aiden is working tomorrow. He's on the afternoon shift, so we have to get back. Anyway, from what I hear, there isn't a room available in the place. They're fully booked."

I looked at Aiden, who was certainly not fit to drive, and the thought of the two kids made me say to Denise, "You can have my room. I'll soon clear the things out of it. It's better than driving home at this time of night."

There's nothing as stupid as a drunken man, especially an obnoxious drunken man, and Aiden pulled himself to his feet, and mumbled, "No! We'll be fine. We'll be home in half an hour, won't we darling!"

Denise gave a resigned shrug. "I suppose so. We'd better be going."

I looked at Harry, and he winked. I gave him a puzzled look. Surreptitiously, he stared into my eyes and shook his head. I hadn't got a clue why he was doing it, but despite my anger at what was about to happen, my instinct told me not to protest further, and when they were all up and going, I tried not to get involved. Joel was last going through the exit door, and he turned and looked at me. We all waved at him, but I knew his wave back was meant only for me. And then they were gone with Harry and Rosemarie to finally see them off.

I was tired and wanted to go to bed, but I couldn't until Harry and Rosemarie came back in. So I sat quietly at the table with other others, waiting and waiting. Eventually, they came back in, shivering and complaining about the cold. When they sat down, Harry said, "One last drink for us all, and then we'll call it a day."

I put my hands up. "Not for me, thanks. I'm asleep on my feet."

Again Harry gave me that covert shake of the head. "Just the one. Just for me, please?"

I gave him another puzzled look. "Just a small Scotch, and then that's it!"

Harry laughed. "You can manage it... Old Man!"

I laughed, and looked at Rosemarie. "He'll fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow."

Rosemarie giggled. "He'd better not!"

Harry put his arm around her shoulder, pulled her to him, kissed her hard on the cheek, and said, "Don't you worry, my darling." Then he looked directly at me with a grin in his eyes. "I can outlast most in the bed."

Everybody laughed, but I laughed most, because I knew how many times he'd outlasted me when he was a randy, hormonal teenager. I often dropped off with him rubbing his hard dick up and down my midriff, trying to work himself off and shoot what was left of his boy cream into my chest hairs. Most times he would slap my face and make me stay awake, and if he really wanted to keep me awake, he'd push his swollen knob into my mouth and keep me awake that way. By the time he was fourteen with pubic hairs and a five inch dick, it was difficult to sleep with it stuck in my throat.

The last barman (the two others had left) thought he'd finished, but like the professional he was, he was cheerful when he brought us the round of drinks on a tray. I decided that he'd earned his corn, and before he left us, I took thirty pounds from my wallet, placed them on the empty tray and told him that it was a tip for the hard work he'd put in. He was profuse in his thanks, but I nodded to him and told him that he was worth every penny. The chatting continued, but my thoughts were of the small boy who would now be sitting with a drunken driver on his way home, and I was praying to God to keep him safe. I was also wondering why Harry had been giving me stupid signals ever since they decided to go home.

All was revealed ten minutes later. I'm pretty quick on the uptake, and when Denise and her two children – all crying - came into the room accompanied by a policeman, I knew immediately why Harry had been acting like a secret agent. The bastard! The wonderful, beautiful bastard!

**********

Although maybe it shouldn't have been me, it was me who sat by the side of Joel with my arms around him, comforting him because the police had pulled his stepfather over and arrested him for drinking and driving just along the road from where he set off, and they'd had to come back to the Manor Hotel because the police thought it was the most convenient way to sort things with no driver to take them home.

Pandemonium didn't rule. I did. Every facet of my organizational skills clicked immediately into place. With the help of a stunned, tired concierge, and not a little support from my well-tipped barman friend, although the hotel was full and most of the guests were in their beds and asleep, I managed to organise things so Denise and little Wendy had my room, and Joel and I were to share a vacated single room. Of course, I didn't put up one ounce of objection when my barman friend said he'd make up a mattress on the floor for me to sleep on. It just wouldn't be right for a young boy to share a bed with an `Old man'! Propriety wouldn't allow that, and I was nothing but propriety itself!  And the last thing I saw as I was leading Joel up the stairs with an arm around his shoulders was Harry trying desperately to stifle a Cheshire-Cat-Grin all over his beautiful face.

**********

Although I was mightily pleased at what had gone on, I was also distressed that my Joel was so upset. The shock of what had gone on had hit him hard. My beautiful well-dressed boy was all dishevelled when I got him to the bedroom, and when I closed and locked the door behind me, he immediately came into my arms and cried like a baby. I shushed him and shushed him and kissed him on top of his gorgeous hair, and then led him to the edge of the bed and sat him in my lap, where I hugged him tightly while he sobbed into my neck. I felt the hot tears on my skin, and just let them flow.

It was quite a while before I managed to calm him down, and then I said, "You need to get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning. What's done is done, and none of it is your fault. Shall we get you into bed?"

He snuffled the snot up his nose, and through teary eyes, looked at me. "I'm tired."

I brushed back the locks from his forehead. "Of course you are! You need to sleep! I'll tuck you in. Do you want me to help you get undressed?"

Again he sniffled, and nodded at me. I smiled at him, and lifted him to the standing position. When I stood up, I kissed his forehead. "It's not too warm in here. I'll get you one of my shirts to wear in bed. It will keep you warm. Will that be alright?"

I got a small smile from him, and an almost silent, "Yes."

Despite the gravity of the situation, after I'd taken a heavy check shirt from my suitcase, undressing him was a wonderful experience for me. I gave him lots of warm smiles as I removed each of his garments. His coat slipped off easily, which I put on a bedside chair. I didn't have to take off his bow tie: it was in his jacket pocket. His shirt buttons were undone enough for me to slip the shirt over his head, and I couldn't help but marvel at his beautiful, slim body as it was revealed to me. How would he react to me taking his trousers off? I didn't know, but they had to come off, so I undid the top of them, pulled down the zip, let them fall to his ankles, and sat him in the chair. I went to my knees, undid the white laces of his white shoes, slipped them off, and then pulled his trousers over his ankles. I decided to leave his white socks on to keep him warm in bed, and the neat y-front underpants that were showing no signs of an erection beneath the soft fabric. I was so near him that I could feel the warmth coming from his legs, and I wanted to bury my face between his thighs and love him to bits. Circumstances had thrown us together, and under different circumstances I knew that both of us would want what I wanted, but it was not the time for that. So I lifted him to his feet and slipped on the shirt I'd taken from my suitcase. It was far too big for him, and even he giggled when it dropped below his knees and the sleeves hung three inches over his fingers. I grinned into his face. "I think it's a bit too big for you. I'll roll the sleeves up, shall I?" He smiled and nodded, and smiled some more as I rolled each one back to his small elbows. When he was done, I held him at arm's length, and cocked my head to one side. "It's not perfect, but it will keep you warm. Now get into bed and I'll tuck you in."

I lifted the duvet back and waved a hand at him to get in. He slipped in between the sheets and laid his head on the pillow, but just as I was about to tuck him in, he put a hand out and stopped me. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine, and then very quietly, he said, "I don't want to be alone."    

To be continued...

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