ATTENTION: This story may contain scenes of sexual activity between and among adult men and underage boys. If you find this offensive or if it is illegal for you to read this in your jurisdiction, do not read this story! This is a fantasy. This did not happen and the author does not advocate the violation of any laws. Please write to let me know what you think of my story at: christophe.gantier1987@gmail.com.

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Wilde in the City
Christophe Gantier

 

Chapter 2

“I think the brownies are starting to kick in.”

Shaun glanced over at Tristan and saw a goofy grin on the teenager’s face. The younger boy grinned, as well, though he didn’t really want to. He couldn’t help it, however.

“Feeling good?” Eric asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Better,” Tristan replied with an embarrassed smiled.

Eric looked over at Shaun and smiled as he asked, “How are you feeling Shaun?”

The younger boy had first noticed a few minutes earlier that he was starting to feel a little funny. He was feeling high, but it wasn’t like any of the other times he had gotten high. He had felt the effects almost immediately those times. Everything seemed to have slowed down and he had felt a great sensation of peace and serenity. He had also felt as if he were outside his body, watching himself. It was a cool feeling, but this was different.

“Shaun?”

“Huh?” the boy responded. Tristan grinned and said, “I think Shaun’s feeling fine.”

The younger boy grinned and nodded. At first, he thought he might have been wrong in assuming the brownies were “magic,” because nothing seemed to happen after he ate the first one. It had been more than twenty minutes and he was now finally feeling something. Maybe brownies took longer than smoking joints to get you high, he concluded.

“I feel cool,” he replied.

Eric studied him and said, “I’m glad. I know you were upset with your mother and I don’t blame you for feeling resentful about everything. I’m thrilled you’re coming to live with us, but I admit that, if I were you and my mom was trying to pawn me off on someone else, I’d be pissed as hell.”

“I was,” Shaun replied. “I mean, I’m glad you want me and it’s really nice of you and all that and I know that having someone else can be a hassle and all, but it’s really nice of you and I really was pissed off at my mom. I mean, she’s my mom and I never hardly ever get to see her and now my dad’s gone and I don’t have anyone and I mean she could think about how I feel and all and all she thinks about is how I’ll get in the way ‘cause she wants to run her stupid magazine and nobody wants me. She called all her friends and nobody wanted me except you and you’re so cool to take me and I really appreciate it and… um… what did you ask me?”

Eric and Tristan were grinning at Shaun’s long stream-of-consciousness soliloquy. Eric chuckled and replied, “I don’t remember, but you’re certainly welcome to live with us. I think you’re a really cool kid and I think Tristan probably feels the same way, now that he knows you’re not a threat to him. I love Tristan and I always will and now I’m going to love you, too. So, I hope you love living with your new family.”

“I will,” Shaun replied. “Thanks.”

He looked over at Tristan, who was staring down at his hands resting in his lap. His hands seemed huge. Shaun’s father had explained that when boys became teenagers, their hands and feet would grown and then their arms and legs would grow longer. Tristan was slim and his arms were long and his hands were big. His fingers were long and slender and pretty. His long blond ponytail was beautiful and his face was so delicate and pretty, yet still masculine. His thin lips and thin eyebrows… his sapphire eyes, his straight nose…

Shaun realized his dick was rigid from looking at Tristan. He wanted to do it with the teenager.

“How old are you, Tristan?” he asked before he realized he was doing it.

The older boy turned his head slowly, as if in slow motion.

“Fourteen,” he replied with a slightly goofy grin.

Shaun nodded and said, “My friend Chad was fourteen. He taught me all his skateboard tricks. He was really cool. He never made fun of me when I went to the park and he helped me and taught me everything and he was so cool and we used to smoke weed when we were skating and he was really cool and… well… he was cool.”

Tristan grinned and said, “I guess he was cool.”

“Oh, man. He was. He was so cool.”

Eric winked at Tristan and said, “Well, maybe Tristan can be a cool friend, too.”

“Yeah,” Tristan replied softly as he looked out the window.

“Yeah,” Shaun responded, as well, turning to look out at the scenery. They had crossed the East River on the expressway leading from the airport and then turned north through a park and then west, again, and across another river and then south.

“Where are we?” he asked, trying to see through the rain and clouds. He couldn’t see any of the tall buildings of Manhattan.

“Harlem,” Eric replied. “Uncle Julian lives on Park Avenue, in the Upper East Side. We live down in Greenwich Village, which is a few miles further south.”

“Man, this is sure taking a long time.”

“Oh, I suppose so,” Eric replied with a smile. “So, Shaun, what do you want to do with your life when you get older? Dance, play the violin, teach, write… skate?”

Shaun grinned and said, “Have fun.”

Eric chuckled and Shaun added, “Actually, I might want to go into politics. Dad was a teacher and a writer and he wanted to change the world that way. I think I can do more in politics, like fight for gay rights and for poor people and the environment.”

“Well, that’s admirable,” Eric replied. “I think your father would be proud of you.”

“Well, I was proud of him and I want to do something he would be proud of.”

“Well, I think he would also want you to be happy.”

Shaun shrugged and said, “Yeah, I suppose. He took care of me and made me happy.”

He paused and looked down before adding, “I have my memories.”

Tristan glanced over and saw the boy gazing out the window, his mood suddenly shifting. He glanced at Eric, who moved his head to indicate Tristan should scoot over. The teenager nodded and unfastened his seat belt before sliding across the back seat. Eric turned around to give the boys privacy.

Shaun didn’t realize Tristan had scooted over until he felt the seat moving. He turned and was surprised to find the teenager smiling shyly.

“Hey,” the older boy said softly before he wrapped his left arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. Shaun stiffened for just a second and then relaxed. Tristan’s right arm wrapped around the boy’s torso and pulled him against him.

Tristan said nothing. He simply hugged Shaun and then younger boy leaned into him, closing his eyes. He felt suddenly warm and safe and secure. Tristan buried his face in Shaun’s mop of dark golden-blond hair,

“I’m sorry I was such a dick to you before,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Shaun replied. “I understand.”

“It’s not okay. You’re a cool guy, a sweet guy, and you’re really cute. I’m glad you’re coming to live with us,” Tristan said softly. “I want to be your big brother and your best friend… and maybe, if things work out, we can be boyfriends.”

Shaun smiled. Saying nothing, he responded by pressing his head against Tristan’s chest.

“I can introduce you to a lot of really awesome men who like boys like us and love us. And you and I can sleep together and have all sorts of fun together and… I’ll take you all over New York and you can meet my friends. They’ll love you.”

“Sounds awesome,” Shaun whispered back.

Shaun was feeling almost euphoric as Tristan held him. It was the most amazing feeling of warmth and love. Tristan moved his mouth to Shaun’s ear and the boy could feel the teenager breathing, His dick was as hard as a diamond in his jeans and he felt as if he had never felt so loved and serene.

“Would you like to do it with me?” Tristan whispered.

Shaun nodded.

“Would you like to do it with Eric?”

Again, Shaun nodded.

“How about both of us, together?”

“Yeah.”

Tristan kissed Shaun’s ear, his hand slipping down the side of the boy’s torso, to the top of his jeans.

“Did you ever do it with your father?” he whispered.

Shaun shook his head no, but added, “I wanted to, but Dad wouldn’t.”

“Have you ever done it with anyone else?”

Shaun paused a moment and then nodded.

“Who?” Tristan asked as he licked inside Shaun’s ear.

The younger boy squirmed and Tristan withdrew his tongue before kissing Shaun’s ear.

“My friend, Chad. He was fourteen. We were friends last summer. He was at the skate park. He taught me all about skateboards and we’d go to his place and get high and… do stuff.”

“Like what?”

Tristan was rubbing the front of Shaun’s jeans now, pressing against the hardness within. Shaun was breathing harder. He moved his left hand over and began to rub the front of Tristan’s jeans, as well. He was thrilled to feel how long and hard the teenager’s boner was. It reminded him of Chad’s.

“Eric won’t mind we’re doing this?” he whispered.

“No, not at all.”

“Antoine?”

Tristan chuckled softly and replied, “He’s probably jealous.”

Shaun smiled, his eyes still closed.

“Tell me about what you and Chad did,” Tristan whispered.

“We got high and… we kissed and… he sucked my dick… and I sucked his. We did that a lot. Chad was so cool.”

“He sounds like it.”

“He… you won’t think I’m a perv if I tell you something, will you?”

“No way.”

“He fucked me once.”

Tristan grinned and whispered, “Did you like it?”

“It hurt. A lot. He said it would get better, but we never got to do it again.”

“How come?”

Shaun didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it.”

“I can’t say.”

Tristan looked down at Shaun’s face and saw the pain. He moved his hand from the boy’s crotch to his chin and pushed his face up.

“What happened?” he whispered. “Tell me, Little Dude.”

Shaun opened his eyes and sighed.

“His dad caught us and chased me away and… he beat up Chad and… I never saw him again.”

Tristan frowned and caressed the boy’s face.

“I could hear him screaming when I ran from the house. Dad called the police when I got home and told him, but we never heard back and I never saw Chad at the park ever again. I was afraid to go by his house. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Tristan hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead in several places, kissed the bridge of his nose, his eyes, his cheek. His fingers traced along the boy’s eyebrows and then held his face as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Shaun. That was awful. I’m so sorry, but nothing like that will ever happen to you with us. I’ll love you, Shaun, and so will Eric. We’ll love you and take care of you and Uncle Julian will love you and Antoine and all our friends. You’ll always be loved and safe and happy. We’ll take care of you, sweet thing.”

Shaun snuggled in closely and closed his eyes.

The car had exited the expressway and made several turns. Shaun had not been watching where they were going and was only vaguely aware they were stopping. He heard Eric softly say, “Tristan, I’ll be home around ten. Take care of him. Okay? Take things slow and easy and take care of him. Okay?”

“I will,” the teenager replied quietly.

Shaun heard the car door close and the Range Rover was moving again. He was still rubbing Tristan’s crotch and the older boy leaned forward again. This time, however, his thin lips touched the younger boys, soft, full lips. Shaun had never been one for kissing. Chad had liked it and Shaun had indulged him, but it was not his first choice in sexual activities. He much preferred beating off with Chad, or sucking—preferably getting sucked. Maybe it was the brownies. Shaun was certainly higher now than he had ever been with Chad! Maybe it was the cuddling with Tristan. He didn’t know, but at that moment, when the teenager’s lips touched his, Shaun wanted nothing more than to kiss him!

Their lips touched for several seconds before Tristan began to move his back and forth and then to pull at Shaun’s pouty lower lip with his. Shaun was breathing hard as Tristan’s hand caressed his face. He pulled away and looked down into the eleven year-old’s smooth baby face.

Shaun opened his eyes and whispered, “Can anyone see us?”

Tristan shook his head and replied, “The windows are too dark. We’re safe. I could fuck you and no one would know.”

Shaun’s eyes grew wide and she asked, “Are you?”

“Not right now. Maybe later,” Tristan replied with a grin. “Right now, I’m just going to love you and make you feel good.”

Shaun smiled and looked into the teenager’s sapphire eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

“I know,” Tristan replied with a grin. “And you are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I love younger guys and you are the cutest I’ve ever seen.”

Shaun sighed with contentment and closed his eyes as Tristan reached down and began to rub his crotch again. The older boy placed his lips on Shaun’s again and began to make out with more passion, Shaun allowing himself to lose control and not to worry about anything.

Tristan’s tongue pushed between their lips and slid across the younger boy’s. Shaun moaned into the older boy’s mouth as Tristan’s tongue made move to his. Nothing had ever turned him on so hard.

Tristan’s hand was massaging Shaun’s boner, his fingers exploring it through the denim. The younger boy squirmed and moaned as the feelings inside grew stronger. There was need growing within him, stronger and stronger. Tristan’s tongue explored the boy’s mouth, sliding across his smooth teeth and over the roof of his mouth. Shaun’s whimpers became continuous and his hips were thrusting upward, pressing his boner against the older boy’s hand, his own hand rubbing Tristan’s crotch harder. He loved how long and thin the teenager’s cock seemed to be, reminding him of Tristan’s body, slim and tall.

The car turned onto another street and Tristan was moaning into Shaun’s mouth as much as the younger boy was moaning into his. His fingers began to unfasten Shaun’s jeans and the boy’s whimper became louder. He pulled the fly open and slipped his fingers inside the younger boy’s briefs. Shaun cried out into his mouth with the first touch of Tristan’s fingers on his rigid boy cock, slipping over the hard boyhood and cupping his tight, slightly wrinkled scrotum. The teenager moved his hand up and down, pulled the foreskin back and forth before he pulled the boy’s erection out and over the elastic band of his underwear.

Tristan’s fingers began sliding the foreskin back and forth over the head of the boy’s penis and Shaun’s whimpers grew even louder. The boy’s need was almost too much to bear. He squirmed and bucked his hips, groaning and whimpering as Tristan’s tongue pushed deep into his mouth.

Suddenly, with far more force than he was accustomed to, he climaxed, his rigid three inches pulsing in the older boy’s fingers. He cried out into Tristan’s mouth and the older boy moaned back at him.

Tristan released Shaun’s boyhood and pulled back, smiling down at the boy as he gasped for breath. Sleepy eyes opened and looked up into the teenager’s.

“Tristan,” he breathed.

The older boy grinned and then resumed his kissing, thrusting his tongue back into Shaun’s mouth. He didn’t touch the boy’s erection at first, but after a few seconds, he wrapped his fingers around the still rigid three inches. Shaun whimper loudly into the older boys mouth as Tristan resumed masturbating the boy. Shaun writhed about, the feeling deep inside him growing again, the need, the desire becoming stronger and more powerful.

Tristan seemed to know when to slow down, sensing when the boy was approaching another climax and slowing down, letting him relax before speeding up again and making the pressure grow.

Shaun’s cries and whimpers were plaintive and desperate. His entire body seemed hungry for satisfaction. He could feel a need deep within, seemingly up his butt and behind his dick. He needed something. Was it more rubbing of his dick or something else? He thought of the one time when Chad fucked him. It had hurt so much, and yet… Thee was a feeling deep in his butt… That was what he wanted. He wanted that feeling inside his butt.

“Fuck me,” he tried say around Tristan’s tongue.

He felt Tristan’s lips for a smile against his before the teenager replied, with his tongue still in the boy’s mouth, “I will. Later.”

“Fuck me,” Shaun replied. “Now. Fuck me.”

Tristan moaned and began to manipulate the boy’s penis with greater pressure, sliding the foreskin up and down, squeezing the head of his penis within the foreskin, sending Shaun over the edge.

The younger boy screamed into Tristan’s mouth and forced his hips upward as his three inches began spasming a second time, pulsing madly, desperate to pump out the non-existent semen from inside.

When it ended, Tristan pulled his face away and released the boy’s hardness. Shaun opened his eyes as he fought for his breath.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed. “Oh, my God…”

“Was it good?” Tristan asked with a knowing smile.

“Oh, my God,” the younger boy repeated.

Tristan gazed down at Shaun’s full, red lips, his smooth baby face, his blue eyes, his wild golden-blond hair, his thick, long, dark eyelashes, and he whispered, “I want you to feel good, sweetie.”

“Oh, my God,” Shaun replied yet again.

Tristan’s hand returned to the boy’s shoulder, leaving his still rigid penis now hiding back inside his underwear, his jeans still open.

“So, what do you think?” Tristan asked. “You think you might like living with Eric and me?”

“Maybe,” Shaun replied, “but let’s do it again, just to make sure.”

 

~ ~ ~ O ~ ~ ~

 

The woman who opened the door of the fifth floor apartment in which Julian Falcon lived nodded and stepped aside to allow Eric to enter, advising him, “He’s in the study.”

Eric thanked her and strode through the entrance hall to the study, where he found a man of around forty, with red hair similar to Eric’s, though much more nicely groomed, wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a red crew neck sweater, sitting on a couch and reading what appeared to be manuscripts.

“Eric! What a pleasant surprise. I am grateful you’ve come by. Your lesbian sent me over several manuscripts for me to reject because she doesn’t want to offend the writers, which is very un-Samantha-like of her. There’s nothing she enjoys more than crushing the spirits of aspiring writers. However, these particular writers are young lesbians and I think she wants to blame the patriarchy for their failure rather than the fact that they can’t write. So, she’s delegated the job of destroying their hopes and dreams to me.”

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s very unfair of Samantha to do that. I understand she and Lesbius Maximus are having difficulties again.”

“Oh, the Marlboro Man isn’t forcing her to groom her mustache again, is she?”

“No. Actually they were planning to spend the first week of June camping in the Berkshires with the other carpet munchers worshiping the Earth mother and singing dreadful lesbian folksongs about overthrowing the patriarchy and the glories of hairy vaginas before a heartless and unthinking family judge in Ann Arbor, Michigan ordered Samantha to take custody of her eleven year-old son—and you know how Max feels about males.”

“Oh, my! I didn’t realize that Samantha had reproduced. Who was the unlucky man who plumbed the depths of her nasty, waspy Tunnel of Horror?”

Eric sat down across from him and requested a whiskey and soda from the housekeeper.

“You won’t believe it when I tell you. David Wilde.”

“The essayist? Don’t we publish his work?”

“Yes. It seems that he and Samantha were actually friends back in the day at Harvard.”

“I wasn’t aware that Samantha had friends.”

“Well, apparently God works in mysterious ways. Anyway, sometime back in the late eighties, at a moment of wild insanity, she agreed to bear David’s child.”

“Wait a minute. He was killed a few weeks ago, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. An accident. He was in a convenience store when a robber who was high on meth shot him. So, his son was sent to New York to live with his mommy by a judge who didn’t realize the egregious mistake he was making.”

“God help the lad.”

“Actually, he has. Sammy has asked me to take him.”

“Oh, really?” Julian asked with interest.

Eric nodded and said, “She told me that since I’ve done such an admirable job helping Tristan adjust to life after his brutal father, she thinks I’m the perfect person to raise the fruit of her loins.”

“Obviously, she doesn’t know you very well.”

“Actually, I think she knows me all too well. I read between the lines and realized she knows exactly what she’s doing and realized I was the perfect person to offer him to because I would definitely say yes. She has never had any intention of meeting any of her maternal responsibilities.”

“How Lady Macbeth of her.”

“Of course. You didn’t expect that Sammy would do anything out of the goodness of her heart?”

“Of course not,” Julian replied. “So when does the Son of Sam arrive in New York?”

“An hour ago. That was why I asked for the use of Antoine and the Range Rover. He’s driving him to the apartment with Tristan and, after eating two each of Antoine’s special brownies, I suspect they are unable to keep their hands off each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tristan has the poor kid undressed before they even reach the apartment.”

Julian smiled and said, “Well, that’s our boy. So, tell me about him. What’s his name?”

“Shaun.”

“Shaun Wilde? What is he? A gay porn star for William Higgins?”

“He has potential. He’s actually very intelligent, even though he’s a skateboarder.”

“Eww. A bad boy! How delightful!”

“Actually, he’s trained in ballet, studies the violin, and plays soccer.”

“Where have I heard this before?”

“Exactly. He’s Tristan on a skateboard. And, he’s eleven.”

“Ah. A nice age, but it would have been better if he were nine.”

“I know. We have to start force-feeding him Melatonin immediately.”

“Perhaps hang him upside and insert a bottle into his mouth, rather like veal. Do you know if he’s already started puberty?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t doubt it. He has big hands. I also wouldn’t doubt that he’s well-schooled in the sexual arts. I’ve heard tell that David Wilde was just that, wild. He was one of those miraculous promiscuous bottoms who survived the eighties. Samantha says she’s certain he and he boy had unlawful carnal knowledge of each other.”

“Well, good for them. Will he fit into our little… society, do you think?”

“I have no doubt, but I’ll get a preliminary evaluation from Tristan tonight. I’m giving them a nice Sunday evening to get to know each other.”

“Which I’m sure will not include watching Masterpiece Theatre on Channel Thirteen.”

“No. That is quite unlikely.”

“So, this is why you needed Antoine’s services as a driver this afternoon.”

“Yes, and I have made it clear that he is limited to driving. He is not to join the boys. He is to return here immediately after dropping them off.”

“Good. So, I suppose you need to find something to do to kill time until…”

“I want to be back by ten.”

“Well, we can have dinner at Au Contraire and then watch Masterpiece Theatre…”

“Or we can get naked and you can fuck the hell out of me.”

“Well, there’s that, too. Or we can do all three,” Julian replied with a smile. “So, when do I get to meet the new member of our little circle?”

“Soon. Probably by next weekend. It depends on how much he already knows.”

“You know how I love a nice young virgin.”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking he needs to meet Damian. I don’t think Shaun dreams of a career as a dancer, but he might like some training with the Falcon Dance School and Damian might like a little naughty skater boy.”

“Let me have a go at him first.”

“Oh, of course,” Eric replied with a smile.

 

~ ~ ~ O ~ ~ ~

 

For the rest of the drive through Midtown to the Village, the boys cuddled as the brownies worked their magic on them. Tristan would caress Shaun’s face and the younger boy would snuggle closer to the teenager, neither aware of anything outside the Range Rover. When the vehicle finally pulled up to a curb and stopped, Tristan kissed Shaun on the lips and whispered, “We’re here.”

“I don’t want to get out,” Shaun whispered back.

Tristan smiled and said, “Come on. We’ll get naked and I’ll show you what it means to be loved.”

Shaun smiled. Antoine softly said, “All right, boys. We’re here.”

He climbed out of the vehicle as the two boys slowly slid across the seat to the right-hand door. By the time they were standing on the sidewalk, Antoine had removed Shaun’s suitcase from the back.

“Come on,” he said with a smile, though his voice seemed more commanding that the smile would indicate. He entered a doorway situated between a storefront attorneys’ office and a CPA’s office. They climbed three flights of stairs to a door which Antoine unlocked with a key. Opening the door, he entered and Tristan, his arm around Shaun’s shoulder, led the younger boy in. They were in the foyer of a large apartment and as the boy’s walked past, Antoine touched Tristan’s shoulder. He groped him by the crotch and whispered into his ear, “Train him good. You need any help?”

Tristan gave him a frown and whispered, “We’re fine. Thanks for the ride and the brownies.”

“I want him. He’s hot.”

Tristan sighed heavily and then responded, “Don’t worry.”

Antoine nodded and then, in a normal voice, said, “All right, then! You two have fun. Remember, Eric’ll be back by ten.”

Shaun smiled with droopy eyes at the black man and his eyes met Antoine’s again. The boy’s hardness throbbed. Antoine seemed so… powerful and sexy and… there was something similar between him and Trevor Hawke. Shaun’s lips parted and he began to breath heavily until Tristan said, “Thanks for the ride, Antoine. See you later.”

Antoine smiled back, but there was definitely an air, an unspoken message in the way he looked back at Tristan before he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

Tristan turned to Shaun and wrapped his arms around him. He looked down in the eleven year-old’s sweet baby face. His smile faded into a wistful look. He placed his hand on the side of Shaun’s smooth, soft cheek and seemed to the younger boy to be almost sad.

“You’re so sweet, so sweet.”

Shaun looked up at him and whispered, “Something wrong?”

Tristan swallowed and replied with a warm smile, “No. Nothing. Everything’s perfect.”

Shaun sighed with relief and lay his head against Tristan’s shoulder. Yeah, everything was perfect. An hour earlier, he was convinced that his life was shit. Now, however, it seemed it was exactly the opposite.

He hoped.

 

Please let me know what you think at christophe.gantier1987@gmail.com