Date: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 05:47:41 -0500
From: happynudist@vfemail.net
Subject: TUCSON, Chapter 3

Privetstviya boys and girls of Nifty! I'm Monty, Mr. Montgomery to
that cute lad who delivers my paper, and I'm back with Chapter 3 of
Tucson. This chapter we will expand our international flavor! I don't
do this for the $$$ and I don't do it for the LOLZ, I do it for the
feedback, so if you love my story please let me know why and how at:
happynudist@vfemail.net

Also, as always, none of this happens without Nifty, so donate
generously and donate often at:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I hope you like Chapter 3. As always, Gabriel is the center of Leo's
heart, but he's not alone in Leo's pants, so let's see what our
protagonist can get up to this time.  As always, remember this is
totally fantasy and do not try this trick at home. This erotic story
was performed on a closed course with professional drivers. Keep your
hands inside the car at all times kids!


Chapter 3


"That feels so good dad. It tickles."

"Hold your head still. Don't fidget."

"Vrrrrrrssssssssssshhhhhhhh"

It's not what you think, you dirty-minded pervs. Well, maybe it is.

Gabriel wanted a haircut like his hero, substitute big brother, and
thirteen year old fuck buddy Carlos. Which meant a tight fade, down to
bristly stubble on the sides, high and square in back, with just
enough on top to stand up nice and flat. That's why I was cutting his
hair, running the electric razor through his unruly oil black locks as
clumps of his thick, straight, lustrous hair fell off, revealing his
long lovely neck even more clearly. We were both naked because, well,
we were always naked, Gabriel perched on a chair in the kitchen so I
could just sweep up the hair afterwards.

Vrrrrrrrrssssssshhhhhhh. Another clump fell. On the one hand, I hated
cutting off the beautiful shiny locks that hung in his eyes, through
which he would peek up at me while sucking my dick. On the other hand,
a boy with a tight short haircut is a lovely thing. Plus now I would
see his face clearly while he was blowing me. He must have been
reading my mind, because as I leaned over him with the razor he
reached out and slipped his full red lips around the tip of my cock,
giving me a quick little suck. I started to harden, but kept working
the razor. I'd cut for a minute and then we'd take a pause and Gabriel
would suck my erection. Occasionally he had to spit out a few stray
bits of hair that had fallen onto my dick. It was adorable watching
the freshly shorn boy, cute as a spring lamb, sucking me from the
chair, he own slim boycock jutting up towards his tight rippling
belly, his tiny balls pooled underneath him on the chair.

I finished up the tight fade, leaving a cute little cowlick of hair
right at the front that popped up a bit in the style that latin boys
all seemed to love, and I set the razor on the bar. Gabriel took that
as his signal to lean forward and really go to town, sucking my cock
all the way down his throat as he looked up from under his slim black
eyebrows, his long straight eyelashes curving above his beautiful
hazel eyes. He tugged gently on my balls as he went to town. Pretty
soon I was gasping and I could feel my seed making its way up from its
sack. Gabriel was now masturbating furiously with one hand while
working the other on my sack and shaft. On a back thrust I popped my
head from his mouth, grabbed his fine-boned small hand where it
grasped my shaft, and gave a few hard strokes as his long slim fingers
tightened. With a grunt I came on the boy's face as he held out his
tongue, getting a nice shot right into his mouth, the second spurt
splattering across his nose and cheek, the third hitting his neck and
the top of his knobby collar bone, dripping down his tight smooth
chest towards his penny-sized popped-out bronze nipples. The boy
looked up at me, licking the cum from the corner of his lips and
swallowing it, his hand moving at lightning speed as he jerked himself
to his baby cum.

"Unnnnghhh. Unnnnnghhh. Unnnnnnnnnnnngggggghhhhhhhhh!!!! Whew. Oh. How
does it look dad?"

"Go look in the mirror."

"There was a full length antique mirror in the entry near the front
door and the boy jumped up and raced over, checking himself out
carefully. He was smeared with cum and dusted with cut hair, but he
only had eyes for how tight and sexy his new haircut was, how much
like his idol Carlos.

"It's hot daddy. I don't look like a little boy anymore." I didn't
want to say anything, but the way the short hair showed off his thin
pretty neck and smooth flawless skin made him look, if anything, even
younger.

"OK you, in the pool. I'll clean up the hair." My boy, my foster son
who after a month no longer seemed like a foster, just like my son
with no qualifiers, raced out the back door into the brutal late
summer Arizona sun, speedo-tan-line framed ass pumping, down the
flagstone path through the garden of native plants, and without even
slowing down flew into the pool with a splash. I chuckled at his
enthusiasm and swept up the mess of black hair on the kitchen floor
before heading out and diving into the cool pool myself, letting the
water clean my skin. Gabriel swam up to me and grabbed my cock for a
moment before throwing his arms around my neck and treading water in
front of me, his brown boy's face inches from mine. I moved my head
forward and we shared a long sexy kiss that tasted of chlorine and ten
year old boy.

"Are you ready for Monday?" In two days, Gabriel and I would both
start school, me as an assistant professor of ecology and biology, he
as the newest addition to University Waldorf, the free-thinking
anthroposophic private school located next to campus that I had
arranged for him to attend. Summer was over, and our little eden at
the casita would come to an end in a way, as the outside world would
have to be rejoined. It had been an amazing few weeks. Carlos had
visited again last Saturday, spending the day with us swimming,
grilling burgers, and fucking. He'd declined my offer to fuck him
again, which confirmed my suspicion that he was more top than bottom,
but he had wanted me to finger him while he was buried deep inside
Gabriel. The thick dicked thirteen year old was less shy this time, a
bit more cocky and sure about what he wanted, with the growing ego of
a young teenage athlete, but he was a sweet boy and you could tell how
much he loved to be able to spend a day away from the group home and
get treated like a regular boy. Well, a regular boy who gets to walk
around the house naked and hard.

Gabriel had grown quiet at my question, his whip slim little body
floating almost weightless in my arms. He was looking off into the
pale blue desert sky, adorably chewing his lip, pondering.

"I guess I am. I dunno. Like, if all the kids there are really smart,
it will be, like, hard."

"Why? You're a smart boy too Gabriel."

"Psssttt. I'm just a pinche estupido beaner foster kid with a puto mom
in jail." It broke my heart when Gabriel ran himself down. I wanted
him to have all the confidence in the world.

"Listen, the only thing estupido is thinking that you aren't just as
good as any of those kids. Just because they may come from parents who
have a little money or a nice house, that doesn't mean anything.
People come from the hardest barrios and make it to the top, Gabriel.
Lots of those kids, they will be looking up to you."

"To me?"

"Yes! Look at you. You are handsome and clever and you have street
smarts those kids will never have. Plus most of them are babies who
wouldn't even know how to jerk themselves off. You know more then they
do, way more. You've done more and come through. You are tougher than
they are. You'll be fine." I gave the boy a reassuring kiss, and he
smiled a shy smile. "You will make plenty of friends. Either at school
or on the swim team."

"Oh yeah! Swim team! Swim team!" Gabriel was thrilled that I had
signed him back up with his old swim team, which would start practice
later in the week.

"You'll rule at school and pool, you little badass." I picked Gabriel
up, threw him over my shoulder, and gave him a playful smack on the
ass, then threw him across the pool. I climbed out and collapsed onto
the double lounge chair, picking up my sunglasses I'd left there, and
leaned back, the harsh Arizona sun drying my skin. Gabriel swam for a
moment more and then climbed out as well. He gathered up his own
sunglasses from where he'd last dropped them on the concrete and came
over and lay down next to me, his honey skin slick and shimmering with
water. We lay there, man and boy, next to each other, sunglasses on,
in the hot sun. Gabriel casually reached over and wrapped his left
hand around my flaccid cock, less a sexual act than an act of
re-assurance. As long as he had access to my dick he knew I was there.
It was the unconscious movement of a lover, and my heart swelled for
the boy. I would do anything to make his life what it should be. I was
in love.



*      *     *


"Barracudas listen up!"

22 boys between nine and twelve turned their eyes towards their coach.
So did their parents, who were arrayed on the grassy strip that sat
near the edge of the pool at the Clements Recreation Center on the
campus of Pima Community College. It was Thursday night and the sun
had dipped behind A Mountain, named for the giant A of the University
of Arizona painted onto its side. It was still hot, but the evening
cool would be coming with the night.

The first week of school had gone as well as I could have hoped. My
class about the ecology of the Southwest was fully subscribed, and I'd
already organized my first field trip, to a cholla garden out past the
Old Tucson Studios in the Saguaro National Park. Gabriel had done well
in adjusting to his new school. He couldn't believe that there were
only fifteen kids in his class and that they had several hours of free
time to read and do art and pursue their own projects. His social
anxiety had been eased when he'd realized how much cachet he had
amongst the kids, the well behaved offspring of college professors and
other progressive professionals, as a latino boy from the streets. It
didn't hurt that I'd kitted him out in a complete wardrobe of new
clothes that he'd picked out himself, sure of the fashions of the
fifth grade as only a gay boy could be. I knew that the school would
be a great fit for him, but I also knew that his often spotty past
education meant that he had some catching up to do, and Gabriel had
admitted that he had trouble following along, especially in the math
study. He would probably need a tutor.

All week Gabriel had looked forward to the first swim practice. He was
of course a fish, but I knew he was also missing an environment in
which he could compete. When he'd been on this same team the year
before he'd been one of the best his age, and I could tell that being
able to show his prowess would be just the kind of esteem building
situation that Gabriel needed. Plus he missed being around the other
swimmers, some of whom he knew from his previous time on the team, and
whom he'd greeted with the elaborate handshakes and barely contained
sentimental excitement that was the hallmark of boy culture. He'd
especially missed his old Coach Rick. Gabriel had told me that he'd
gotten the feeling that Coach was a boy banger, and while he couldn't
exactly say what had set off his pint sized gaydar, I didn't doubt
that Gabriel had a knack for knowing who wanted in his kickers. Still,
nothing had happened between the two, and so it was with my own
measure of curiosity that I was evaluating the man standing in front
of us.

"Hello swimmers and parents, for those who don't know me, I'm your
coach, Rick Olsen. This is my assistant, Sasha." Coach Rick was a
handsome blond-haired man, short but well built, probably around 30.
He was deeply tan despite his fair coloring, and he revealed his
bright blue eyes when he slid the Oakley sunglasses he was wearing up
onto his blue Barracuda visor. He had the tight body of a swim champ,
which he'd been when he was an undergrad at Arizona. His arms, under
his tight fitting team polo with the toothed fish logo of the team,
were bulging nicely, and his chest, from what I could see from the
unbuttoned vee of his collar, was built and hairless. He was clean
shaven, and his Nordic blond hair was cropped in a military flat top.
He had a nice deep jockish voice and thick tan thighs that came out
from his loose nylon shorts. He reminded me of a Danish guy I'd had a
thing with when I was a grad student in Paris, with a round face,
small nose, pale lips and small ears. There were vertical smile lines
bracketing his mouth, a prominent apple in his throat, just the
slightest hint of dimple to his chin, and a bit of boyish redness to
his cheeks. He didn't read as gay, but you never knew; neither did I.
Generally he was the type of guy I might pick up in a bar, certainly
if he'd been a bit younger, but I still wouldn't kick him out of bed.

As nice as coach was on the eyes, his assistant next to him, whom he'd
called Sasha, was a fucking stunning teenage boy. Also blond, but with
close buzzed hair that was more the color of a golden retriever's fur,
he had a broad slavic face with high cheekbones and a firm, straight
jawline that led to a sharp pointed chin. His eyes were a soft
cornflower blue, and his neck was impossibly long, leading into a
lanky slim body. He was wearing a loose muscle shirt that showed off a
pair of skinny but well defined arms, bony shoulders, and a well
developed set of pecs. You could tell this was a kid who worked his
body hard, anxious to build muscle. In contrast to his nicely pumped
chest, the legs that came out of the shorts he was wearing, ones that
matched the coach's, were practically alien in how long and thin and
hairless they were; the legs of a boy who'd had his growth spurt in
his bones and the flesh was straining to catch up. He had a long,
straight slavic nose and full, impossibly red lips, and he was as tan
as a white boy could be. He was the kind of boy who was old enough to
know that he was attractive but still young enough to be a bit unsure
about it. I'd guess he was anywhere between fourteen and sixteen.

"OK boys, this season we have over a dozen meets, and last year our
club had the second best record for 9-12 boys in Pima County. This
year, I mean to make that the first best. We're going to work hard and
have lots of fun. Parents, please make sure that I have your paperwork
packets. There are order forms for the team suits here if you haven't
ordered them online yet. Now I want all the swimmers in the pool in
five minutes!" All around us, boys started to strip out of their track
suits. They were in all shapes, colors and sizes, but all of them were
pretty fit. I kept my eyes to myself and looked over at Gabriel, who
had already stripped off his pants and was now stuck in his haste to
rip off his tee shirt. I reached over and pulled the shirt off of his
head with a yank.

"Thanks dad!"

"Nothing to it. Now do what coach said and get into the pool."

Gabriel took off for the water, looking spectacular in the team
speedo, which was royal blue with a wide yellow stripe down the left
hip. I'd ordered it ahead online and he'd anxiously awaited it,
palpably relieved when he'd torn into the house on Tuesday and found
the package from UPS. He looked hot as hell in the lycra kit, though
it wasn't as tight has his old suit. But he wore it well, as did some
of the other boys who I saw stripping down around us, handing over
their training kit to their waiting moms and dads.

"Mr. Marcus?" I turned around to see Coach Rick offering me his hand,
and we exchanged a firm handshake. "You're Gabriel's new foster
parent, right?"

"That's me."

"We're really glad to have him back this year. We missed him last
year. He was one of our best young swimmers two seasons ago, it was a
shame to lose him. He's a great kid."

"Yeah, I know how much the team meant to him. I'm just glad to get him
back in the program."

"That's great. Will it be you and your wife both bringing him to practice?"

"I'm not married."

"Oh. So it's just you, then?"  I thought I could detect both a bit of
surprise and a bit of curiosity in the coach's tone.

"Yeah, just Gabriel and I."

"All boys in da pool in one minute for da warm up laps" Sasha yelled,
with a noticeable accent that I immediately pegged as Eastern
European, probably Russian. I looked over to see that he too had
stripped down to a speedo, this one in the black and red of Empire
High School, a big public school out east of Tucson in the new stucco
suburb of Vail. His body was even better than I had thought; he had
the musculature of a young gymnast from the waist up, with a ripped
eight pack belly and nicely segmented pecs that seemed almost
unnaturally large for his age and build. They were topped by large
oxblood red nipples. His deep tan continued all over his torso and
legs, which made the extremely bright white tan lines around the edges
of his speedo even more prominent. The speedo itself was nicely filled
out between those slim long thighs. I stared at him maybe a beat too
long. Coach Rick must have noticed it and taken it as curiosity on my
part, feeling compelled to say something.

"Yeah, Sasha will be assisting this year. He's my secret weapon. He
can handle running drills while I work with the boys one on one. He's
a natural swimmer. His high school coach thinks he can go to state in
the breast stroke and maybe the butterfly."

"Did I notice that he has an accent?"

"Uh, yeah. He's from the Ukraine. Or I guess you would have to say
Russia now, since he's from the Crimean peninsula."

"Oh wow. How long has he been here?"

"Just about a year. He was a competitive swimmer over there though as well."

"I see. Where'd you find him?"

"He's my son. I mean my adopted son. Him and Alexei." The coach
pointed at a slim boy of no more than nine who I hadn't really noticed
before, with a bowl-shaped shock of blond hair, who was standing
behind Sasha, looking a bit timid. He was a cutie, even smaller than
Gabriel, a pint sized version of the older Russian boy, still with a
flat little boy's body. When I saw them next to each other, the
resemblance was clear.

"Wow. You adopted two boys? That's great. Are they brothers?"

"Yes. Half brothers."

"My hat's off to you. It's not easy, opening yourself to someone else's kid."

"Well Mr. Marcus, certainly you know."

"Call me Leo."

"Yessir."

Coach headed off to poolside. There had been something left unsaid in
our exchange, and I was wondering exactly what it was.

For the next 90 minutes I sat in a folding chair with the other
parents, a new sensation for me. It was mostly women with a smattering
of dads, one of whom sat near me so we could discuss how badly the
Wildcats would be creamed in their opener against USC that weekend.
Coach Rick stripped down to his shorts and went into the pool to help
some of the boys one on one, occasionally addressing them all from
poolside as Sasha helped run his drills. He was a really well built
dude with his shirt off, completely smooth and obviously a gym rat.
When coach whistled practice to an end the boys jumped out of the pool
and ran over to the grass, where the older ones grabbed their towels
and some of the younger ones got to endure being toweled off by their
parents. I looked at Gabriel and he came right up and stood in front
of me, so I ran the towel briskly through his hair and crouched down
to dry his hard little body. He slipped into his sweat pants and
pulled on his tight tee shirt and went through the ritual goodbyes to
the other boys. We headed out to the truck, the day's heat rising from
the asphalt of the parking lot and through the soles of my Converse
low tops. Gabriel's flip flops clacked in the night air. A strip of
dusk light outlined the form of the mountain tops. As soon as we
climbed into the truck, Gabriel turned to me and blurted out what he'd
wanted to say all practice.

"See, I told you coach was hot!"

*     *     *

"I don't want to do it and you can't make me!"

Words that Gabriel never said about sex he sure could say about school
work. It had been a month since school had started and things were
going pretty damn well overall, but we had a hitch. Gabriel and I had
settled into a routine. We'd wake up early, normally with me blowing
him, and have our morning orgasms, then hop into the shower together.
Luckily it was roomy enough for us both. Then we'd head into town and
I'd drop him at school before heading off to my office to put the
final touches on my classes and get some work done. After a full day
of teaching, office hours, and course work, Gabriel would join me in
my office at four. We'd gone back and forth about him crossing campus
on his own, but he had insisted that during his years in the group
home he'd have free reign on the streets of Tucson, and he wasn't
going to be told he couldn't cut across the university alone. He had a
point, and he liked to tell me about the cute guys he saw along the
way when he got to my office. Just to be sure, I bought him a backpack
with an emergency GPS locator. I wasn't taking any chances.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays we headed to the pool for practice. Gabriel
was excelling at the breaststroke and butterfly, and doing real well
at the medley as well. He'd won the 100 meter breaststroke at his
first meet the Saturday before. I'd gotten to know some of the other
parents and boys, and I wasn't surprised to learn that I wasn't the
only one who was curious about how Coach Rick ended up as adopted
parent to two Russian boys. There was a rumor that he'd been in a
relationship with a Russian woman who was the boys mother, but it
hadn't lasted. I didn't know what to think, but I knew that coach was
friendly and low key and good at his job. He seemed to really take
extra time with Gabriel, helping him improve his technique and make up
for his missing year on the team. I couldn't detect if the interest
was anything more than athletic though.

Our free evenings were spent having sex and swimming and taking care
of household stuff. I would leave Gabriel at practice to do the
shopping and we had settled into a kind of sweet domesticity. Homemade
pizza on Fridays, dinner out on Wednesdays, swim practices or meets on
Saturdays, porn and fucking on lazy Sundays. Carlos had made it out
one Saturday after morning practice, and Gabriel had been anxious to
unload all the good news about his great new school and how well
things were going, and I could tell that it bummed him out a little,
still stuck in the group home. I had to talk to Gabriel afterward and
remind him how it had felt when other boys had left the group home for
better lives. You were happy for them and sad for yourself. He had
instantly understood. The boy was very emotionally intelligent. He'd
called Carlos the next day, and communicating through the normal
per-verbal two and three word sentences that boys used, had determined
that he was good. The next Saturday after swim practice we'd attended
Carlos's jiu-jitsu match and given him the encouragement and cheers he
should have gotten from his absent family. He had smiled a big goofy
smile at us and waved an awkward thirteen year old wave.

But back to that hitch. His crappy public school was quite a bit
behind where the Waldorf school was, especially in regards to the one
subject that couldn't be rushed, math. Gabriel hated math and couldn't
keep up. It was school policy not to assign homework normally, but
with students who were struggling they would hand out a course of
extra study to help them catch up. Gabriel couldn't stand these extra
lessons. He thought of it as punishment, a punishment he didn't
deserve. Getting him to do them was a constant battle. I had to sit at
the table and work him through every problem as he practiced the kind
of surly resentment he'd surely perfect as a teenager.

"Gabe, if you don't finish this I'll have to restrict your home
swimming until you do it."

"I don't care. I don't like swimming anyway!"

"You and I both know that's bullshit."

"It's not fair that I have to do this! None of the other kids have to
do this assignment!"

"All of the other kids already know how to do it."

"It's not my fault!"

"I know honey, but that doesn't change anything. You still have to learn it."

"It's not fair!"

I wracked my brain to come up with some way of making this fun for
Gabriel. But I wasn't a math tutor and as his dad, he was going to
always feel he could push back on me since he knew that I loved him
and wasn't going to give up on him. He was testing his boundaries and
my patience.

The only thing that I could really hold over his head was swim team,
and I had told him that if he didn't get his math performance up I'd
restrict him from participating on the team. It was a bluff, and he
promptly called it. "You will never do that! Nunh-nah! Coach won't let
me miss any practices!"

I knew that for my bluff to work I had to go all in, so at his next
practice I called Coach Rick aside and told him I needed his help. I
explained that Gabriel was struggling with his math courses and
refusing to do his extra schoolwork. I told him that I'd threatened to
keep him out of practice, which prompted a pained look from coach.

"Don't worry, I don't mean to actually do it. I just would like it if
you would play along a bit while I talk to you about it in front of
him." Coach Rick understood and flashed me a conspiratorial smile, and
when Gabriel came over, his slick little body dripping wet, and
started drying off behind us, I was ready with my spiel.

"So I have to warn you coach, if he doesn't improve his math course, I
may have to start restricting his participation."

"That would be terrible, Leo. Gabriel is such a talented swimmer. But
I understand. Schoolwork comes first. What I don't understand is how a
boy as smart as Gabriel is having any trouble at all."

"I know. He can totally do the work. He's just a little behind because
his old school wasn't as advanced, and now he needs to make an extra
effort to catch up."

"Well, I've seen the extra effort he's made to catch up after missing
a year of swim, so I can't imagine that he won't be able to do the
same with his school work."

"I'm sure he will coach."

"I hope so, we'd sure miss him. But homework before athletics is the rule."

I then turned to "discover" Gabriel standing there looking
crestfallen. "Hey buddy, I was just discussing your math work withcoach."

"Yes Gabriel, you make sure and finish it up. Hey, you know, I've got
an idea." I could tell that something new had genuinely popped into
coach's head and he wasn't just playing along. "You know that Sasha is
a math whiz? He's already in AP math courses as a sophomore. Maybe he
could help Gabriel get caught up."

"Really?" God, what a genius idea. Gabriel worshipped Sasha, and would
do his best for the boy. And I'd get to spend more time around the
smoking hot teen and maybe figure out the whole story with his
unconventional family. "If he would be willing, I'd pay him as a tutor
of course."

"Will you dad? Please? Please!! That would be awesome!"

Coach called the kid over and he jogged up, shirtless and in his well
packed speedo, his towel casually around his neck.

"Sasha, Gabriel needs some math tutoring. Could you help him son?"
coach asked in a way that was more an order than a question.

"We'd pay you for your time Sasha. It would be a great help." The boy
looked at me, studying me for a moment with a clear appraising look.

"Yes, OK, but I may only do Saturday or Sunday. I am wery busy in da
week with my school and swimming."

"How about this Saturday after our meet?" We were heading to Glendale
for the IMX meet at the YMCA. It would be an almost two hour drive
back to Tucson. "Are you coming to the meet?"

"Yes, I will be competing."

"That's a problem though" coach interjected. "We had been planning on
going up to visit my grandmother in Snowflake after the meet on
Saturday and spend the night." I could tell that Sasha was bummed to
be reminded of the visit. I could only imagine how boring it would be,
spending the night in a little farming town like Snowflake at
grandma's house.

"Do we have to?"

"We've already discussed this Sasha."

"Could you just take Alexei? I could go with Gabriel and Mr. Leo and
spend the night, yes? Is that good?" Coach shot Sasha a glare and
Sasha glared back.

"Would that be good, Leo?"

"That would be great. We've got plenty of room." I hoped that no one
noticed my dick twitching in my shorts.



*     *     *


"And then you multiply da whole number by da fraction."

"But how?"

"Let me show you."

Sasha was a no nonsense kid. They'd been at it almost three hours,
with a short break for my special baked mac and cheese. He was
finishing the third of the ten lessons Gabriel had. At this rate, he'd
have him caught up in a few sessions.

"Now you try it yes?" Gabriel was adorable, working the pencil with
his tight white-knuckled fist, tongue stuck out over the corner of his
mouth in concentration. Sasha had been almost silent on the ride back
from Glendale. He was a taciturn boy, and I hoped that after the work
was done I might get him to loosen up a bit.

"There! see!"

"Dat is wery good Gabriel. Now do one more."

They wrapped up the lesson and both of them leaned back, taking a
breath and stretching. Sasha was wearing a tight sleeveless tee and
loose nylon soccer shorts. He was deeply tan, a late summer tan, the
kind that almost seemed to radiate heat. Outside, the sun had already
disappeared and the shadows moved across the valley. Dusk was there in
its muted dusty glory.

"OK you boys, good job. Now, go swim."

The boys headed off the Gabriel's room to change and both came out a
few minutes later in their team speedos, still damp from their earlier
swims. Sasha walked out and Gabriel turned to me and, with a devilish
grin, held his forefingers about six inches apart. Apparently Sasha
wasn't lacking in the boy department. Two splashes sounded from the
pool and I went and changed, using my double suit method, and joined
them. It was a relaxing swim, not really any horseplay. It had been a
long day of competition and school work. Gabriel had again won the ten
year old class for the 100 meter breaststroke. I was terribly proud of
him. I climbed out and laid out on the lounger. After a while Sasha
also got out and lay down next to me. Even in the evening shadows, the
tan line where his speedo edged his skin was a brilliant white. The
boy was naturally fair and obviously spent a great deal of time in the
sun, though none of it completely naked.

"So Coach Rick told me that you are from Crimea. Which is better,
Crimea or Tucson?"

Sasha thought for a moment. He was a cautious boy.

"In Crimea, in Koktebel, we habe da beach. It is wery nice, in da
summer. I would swim ewery day. I miss dis. But in da winter it is
more cold, not like here. Wet cold. In Crimea, I habe my friends. But
we are wery poor, and we habe noting. Da Ukrainians, dey do noting for
us Russians. Here in Tucson, it is much better for Alexei and I with
Rick. He is wery good man wit us. We habe much better schools and more
opportunities."

"Were you surprised to be adopted by an American?" Sasha gave me a
look that, even in the evening shadow, indicated he was a bit troubled
by my invasive questions.

"Our mother, she tell us dat maybe one day Alexei's father Rick will
come, from America. When da Russian army is ready to come to Crimea,
Rick comes. We were afraid he would only take Alexei, but he said he
wanted to take us both."

"Ah, I see." So Coach Rick was Alexei's father, but not Sasha's. That
explains why they were half brothers. "So Coach Rick had been in the
Ukraine before, then?"

"He had come before, to be missionary for de murmuns."

"The what?"

"De murmuns. You know this church? From Utah?"

"Ah, yes. The Mormons."

"Yes. He had come from dis church. But he met my mother and loved her
so dey sent him back to America. I was little but I remember."

"Oh, wow. That's interesting. Is he... do you go to the Mormon church?"

"No, Rick says de murmuns are liars."

With that, Sasha had had enough family talk. He stood up on the edge
of the water, the pool lights shading every ripple and definition in
his lightly built smooth torso. He barely made a splash as he dove
into the pool.

*     *     *

I woke up needing to piss hard. Gabriel was in bed next to me,
sleeping like a badger in his den. It was amazing that such a small
boy could snore so loud. I climbed carefully out of the bed to plod
off to the bathroom. We had sent Sasha to sleep in Gabriel's room.
Gabriel had wanted to sleep in there with him, but I was afraid he'd
try some more shenanigans like he had with Carlos, and I didn't think
that Sasha was gay. Nothing indicated to me that he was.

I popped out into the hall and headed toward the bathroom. As I neared
the door I could hear the shower running. It was the middle of the
night but Sasha must be taking a shower. I needed to piss bad and
thought about heading out onto the porch to pee off the railing, but
then the water stopped. I could hear Sasha toweling off. I decided to
just wait. I had slipped into underwear, and insisted that Gabriel do
the same that night, because of our guest. We hadn't even had sex
before falling asleep, something we almost always did. But the boy had
been exhausted and had fallen asleep as we sat on the couch watching
Family Guy. I'd carried him to bed.

The door opened and Sasha stood there, a towel wrapped around his
narrow waist. He was startled to see me. "I'm sorry" he sputtered.

"There's no reason to be sorry, Sasha. Sometimes it helps to sleep,
taking a shower. You can take one whenever you want here."

"Dank you, Leo." 


I stepped past the boy, checking him out just enough that if he knew
what it was he'd pick up on it, then closed the door gently behind me,
giving him a wicked little smile before I did. I stepped up and took a
monstrous long piss, shook off, and stepped to the sink to wash my
hands. There was a very quiet knock at the door that made my dick
leap, but I stuffed it back into my underwear and open the door. Sasha
stepped into the bathroom, with a furtive air.

"Leo, may I ask you question?"

"Of course, Sasha."

The boy stood before me, the towel around his waist, low enough that a
couple inches of white skin showed irresistibly.

"Gabriel, he tell me that you are a gay." God, my foster son was
forever getting me in trouble. I had never loved someone more than him
at that moment.

"Yes, Sasha. Does that make you uncomfortable? I know that in the
Ukraine and in Russia, they aren't very accepting of gay people."

"Oh no. I know many gay people in Koktebel. Ewery summer, many gays
come there, from all over Ukraine and Russia. I meet many gays. They
teach me how to give a wery good blow job. Would you like a blow job?"

Well knock me over with a feather.

"Sasha, why are you asking this? Is this something you want to do, or
something you feel you have to do?"

"No, I like to do. I am not a gay I think I am a bi but I like to give
blow jobs and other things with men. Most of de gays in Crimea are not
so hot as you."

"If it's what you really want to do, Sasha. But you must understand
that it can only be something between us. No one else can know."

"Yes, it is same in Ukraine. You do it but you do not talk."

Without a further word, the boy looked me in the eyes and then knelt
down on the bathroom mat. He reached out for my underwear, pulled it
down, grasped my growing erection like he was catching a snake at a
pet store, then jammed the head into his mouth. He gamely licked the
head with his tongue and then proceeded to deep throat me like an
Amsterdam hooker. He'd been taught well.

I looked down in awe as the super fit fifteen year old went to town on
my joint, sliding down to my pubes and back up like the pneumatic
system in a Russian tank. He took to sex like he took to swimming, as
something he was going to win. I could see the lump of his own
erection growing under the white towel still wrapped around his waist.

"Take off the towel and jerk your cock."

Sasha obeyed, leaning forward to whip off the towel. The boy's crotch
was whiter than an Irish baby's ass. His butt had apparently never
seen the sun, and the contrast with his deeply tanned torso and legs
was fucking awesome. His ass was so white it almost glowed, like it was some
holy relic. Medieval peasants would have worshiped something that pure and
flawless.

My cock grew even harder in his mouth. His cock, thick as a mans and
completely free of pubes, looked up at me, the head snug in its jacket
of foreskin. Sasha flipped the skin back, grasped it like a gymnast
grasping the parallel bars, and started stroking himself firmly. The
boy was all athlete.

I could feel my flood building. Sasha was bobbing his head for the
prize, using every trick in the book, squeezing my balls gently with
his free hand, then running his fingers around the bottom of my shaft
on the outstroke. His tongue traced cowpaths randomly across my stalk
and head. He was hoovering my cock, glancing up at me with those
cornflower blue eyes. That did it for me.

"I'm gonna come, boy."

That was all the warning he got. He took the first spurt like a pro,
then gagged, pulling my still firing piece from his mouth, getting a
nice glob of snot across his cheek and a dribble onto his chest. God,
what a teenage sexpot.

"Your turn."

"You mean, you suck me too?"

"We share in this house."

I flipped the toilet lid down and pointed for him to sit on it. He
plopped down on the edge of the lid as I kneeled in front of him on
the mat. His cock was pink and white and about six inches, his pubis
obviously free of hair only with some effort.

"Do you shave off your pubes?"

"I do with the wax. It is to make me faster in da pool."

I didn't care why he did it, it looked cool as his man-sized junk
arose from his tight teen crotch. I leaned forward and swallowed him
hole.

"Oh, Leo. Oh. Oh. Oh." The boy's balls were tight with sperm and as
hairless as the rest of him. I gave them a little squeeze, and in the
way of teen boys everywhere he immediately started spraying like a
fire hydrant that was just struck by a Cadillac.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Черт!"

I could make boys come in three different languages.

Sasha's load was a full grown one, and I swallowed his bitter leavings
greedily, finally pulling off and getting one last spurt dangerously
close to my eye. I looked up at the boy and for the first time since
I'd known him, he was smiling. A big, full-lipped, shit-eating grin.

"You habe da cum all on your face."

"So do you sexy."

I stood up and took the boy by the hand and stepped into the shower,
pulling him under the stream with me. He giggled when I pulled him
close to me, then grew very serious as I leaned over and kissed him.
It took him a moment to respond, but then his tongue came alive and
wrestled with mine a bit. Russians make good wrestlers.

After we were soaped up, rinsed off, and dried, I gave Sasha one last
kiss. I still didn't completely have his score, though he was
certainly willing to play the game.

"So, Sasha, you say you did this in Crimea?"

"Yes, I do it with many men."

"And in America, am I your first?"

"No way." I could see that he was going to say something else but then
had stopped himself. "No, there are de gays here too."

"Yes there are. And I'm glad that you felt you could open up to me. I
appreciate it. And I appreciate your help with Gabriel." Sasha grew
quiet at Gabriel's name, and I was worried that somehow he felt guilty
for fooling around with his young friend's father.

"You know Leo, I like Gabriel. Eweryone, dey like Gabriel."

"Yes, he's a great kid. I'm glad you're helping him. We will have you
over to tutor him again if that's OK."

"Yes, of course. It is just, you know, maybe I should not tell you..."

"What is it Sasha?"

"Well, I think that Gabriel, he may also be a gay. He is like many
boys I know in Crimea who also go with men."

"OK. What if he is? Would that bother you?"

"No! Of course, it will not bother me. I am a bi. But there are other
boys, maybe they don't understand. Maybe if Gabriel try to give them
blow job, they will not be OK. They will hurt him."

"That's always a possibility, Sasha. But you know what? Gabriel is
lucky. He has you and me to watch out for him. Will you help me watch
out for him?"

"Of course. He is a wery special boy."

I gave the hot Russian teen another kiss and wrapped the towel around
his waist. We had said enough. We both stepped back into the hallway,
Sasha heading into Gabriel's room, and me into mine. Gabriel turned
over as I climbed into bed.

"Where were you daddy?"

"I was just in the shower baby. Now go to sleep."

"I had a dream. A sexy dream, with you and Coach. You were both in my butt."

With that, my boy snuggled his 82 pounds of goodness and light right
against me, back to my chest, ass to my crotch, and fell right back
asleep after guiding my hand to hold his erection. I snuggled close to
him and listened to his heartbeat and his breathing. Just as I was
falling asleep, he started to snore his ridiculous loud snore.


*     *     *

That's it for Chapter 3, boys and girls. I really hope you enjoyed
reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This desert heat has me
all horny!

Writing is a lonely past time, so I need to hear from you to know I'm
not pissing into a cave. You can write me at:

happynudist@vfemail.net

Oh, and yes, next time, coach let's Leo know how he ended up a
transcontinental baby daddy :)