Date: Wed, 14 Jul 1999 00:26:00 EDT
From: Marrauder 390 <marrauder390@hotmail.com>
Subject: Will's Story Parts 11-13

The story that follows is pure fiction.  Do not read anything into it. It's
make-believe: what you see is what you get. It never happened, it ain't
gonna happen no matter how long you wait. While we're all sure that there
may be characters who resemble those depicted in the story, any resemblance
to persons living or deceased is unintentional coincidence.

The author of this story neither promotes nor agrees with sexual
relationships between men and teenage boys.

Any sex acts depicted should not be attempted without proper
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Caution! Coffee is hot.


			       Will's Story

				    XI

	I stood glued to the spot, waiting for Will to start screaming, or
hit me or do something.  He remained still, not fully awake yet not
surrendering to sleep.  The room was silent save for the crackling of the
logs in the fireplace and the low thrum of the circulation fan.  I was
terrified.  What was I doing?  What was I thinking?  This was a boy and I
was a man.  I told myself that it was okay to have a certain curiosity, but
to be as close as I was, for as long as I had been, completely absorbed
with the boy's body... that was going over the top.  I was shaking as I
retrieved the flannel blanket and covered the boy up, yet as I tucked the
blanket under his chin, I found myself leaning down and kissing him on his
forehead.  The beautiful smile that I was rewarded with made me feel even
worse.

	I felt awful as I slid into the big overstuffed chair next to the
couch.  From where I sat, I could see Will's sleeping form to my left while
the flames danced in the fireplace in front of us.  My mind was muddled.  I
didn't know what to think.  I had never had any feelings towards men or
boys before, and yet both times that I had seen this boy naked, I found
myself compelled not only to take a peek, but to examine him as thoroughly
as I possibly could.  What was the attraction?  Why did I feel so?  I
couldn't stop believing that my actions were wrong, but yet it felt so
right.  I studied the flames and mulled over this, wondering what was
happening to me.  Finally, I fell asleep.

	I don't know how long I slept there, I'm sure that it couldn't have
been too long as the fire was still burning cheerily in the fireplace.  At
first, I didn't know what had awakened me or why I was there.  I was very
slow coming to my senses, but gradually, I realized that I could hear a
soft sobbing coming from somewhere in the room.  Will.  I looked over to
the couch, but only saw the red flannel blanket, no little boy.

"William?" I said out loud as I jumped out of the chair.  "William, where
are you?"  I heard a sniff behind me, and turned to find Will.  He was
facing the French doors leading out to my deck.  Still unclothes, and his
hair now tousled, he was illuminated only by the dancing light coming from
the fireplace.

Will's body was radiant, his lean tan body a study of firelight and shadow,
skin glistening with perspiration as if oiled.  Behind him, the softly
falling snow visible through the panes of the French doors offering a
contrast that bordered on the surreal.  The boy's hair was in disarray,
transmuted by some strange alchemy of the firelight into strands of gold.
From his hair, my eyes moved away and once again feasted upon that special
place where his neck meets his shoulders and all too soon, my gaze slid
down the gentle slopes of his traps to the tops of his arms.  I scrutinized
each muscle and curve now brought into sharp contrast by the golden
firelight as it cavorted and played upon the perspiration covering his
skin.  I watched as the light and shadows frolicked across the perfect
little knobs of his spine as they made their way down his neck into his
upper back.  I traced the path of the downy wisps of hair as they changed
into a dusting of golden glitter where the firelight capered randomly
across the cleft of his spine and the tiny little muscles of his back.  Had
anything ever looked so perfect?  I was scarcely able to move or speak,
lest I break the spell.  I felt myself trembling with excitement. When the
boy slowly turned to face me, his body so beautiful that it seemed to be
glowing.  The spell was broken.  It was obvious that he was trying to stop
himself from crying, but he wasn't having much success.  "What's wrong?" I
asked, rather lamely, aware that I had again been staring.
 "What did I do
wrong?" he asked.  "When can I go home?  I want to go home."

I rushed in and wrapped him in the red blanket, and hugged him tightly.  I
told him about my phone call with Rob, and of Rob's request that he stay
here tonight and maybe tomorrow, until the situation gets sorted out.
Will's bleary, tear filled eyes looked up at me.

"You would let me stay here?  You like me enough to let me stay here?" he
asked incredulously.  "I don't have to leave?"

How would you answer that question?  It was obvious to me that I liked Will
as a student and as a person.  I had seen him go through so many changes in
such a short time.  I enjoyed working with this boy.  And yet there was
more.

I was beginning to realize that there was something more to my feelings
about the boy.  Counting this time, I had seen him naked three times, and
each time had filled me with such an excitement as I had never known
before.  I freed my left hand and gently stroked the back of his head, down
to the nape of his neck, still holding him tightly against me with my right
hand.  This seemed to calm him immediately, and I could feel the tension
start to leave his body.  I took my time responding to his question while
my hand toyed in the bristly shaved hairs on the back of his head and neck.
I drank in his particular smell, so much like home cooking, and full of
boyish musk.  I noted that the heat in the room was making it more
pronounced as it continued to bejewel his body with perspiration.  Minute
by minute I was losing control and I was sorely tempted to bury my face in
his shoulder and inhale deeply.  Rousing myself from this state of near
bliss, I drew myself together and told him that he could indeed stay with
me until the situation was resolved and it was safe for him to go.  It was
nice to share the house on so special a holiday with one so in need.  Isn't
that what the season was about?

"Then can you do one thing?" he asked shakily.  "Can I ask for just one
thing?"

"What's that?" I asked, not knowing where this was going.

"I'm afraid, Mr. O'Connor.  I've never been so scared.  Can you hold me
while I sleep?"

I wasn't too sure about it, but I immediately agreed.  How could I say no
to a child who had gone through as much pain as he had in the last several
hours?  I led him over to the couch and settled into a corner.  Will
crawled tentatively on top of me like a small child and nestled up against
my chest.  He waited for me to put my arm over his shoulders, and I swear
that he was asleep seconds after that.

I sat there for hours, reveling in his smell, his weight on top of me, the
little noises that he made while sleeping.  Despite his size, he never
seemed too heavy.  I watched the firelight dance atop the perspiration on
his skin where it poked out from under the blanket, and in the tangled mass
of his blond hair, all the while longing for a camera to save the moment.

The neat freak in me finally gave in to temptation after a while, and I
smoothed his hair.  It was as soft as a baby's hair, and very silky to the
touch.  It begged to be smoothed, and smoothed again.  This boy never used
styling products, that was sure.  There was no possible way that his hair
could have had such texture and softness if it had been attacked with the
crap that so many kids put in their hair.  While I played with his hair,
and occasionally his beautifully shaped rubbery ears, I couldn't help but
notice all the different colors in his hair.  His hair color was really a
mixture of blondes and browns with a few black hairs thrown in.  It was no
wonder why bottled hair color looks so fake; how could anyone but an artist
create such a combination of colors?  As I had for perhaps the hundredth
time that night, I wondered how anybody could contemplate a human body and
decide that there is no God.

XII

	I don't remember falling asleep that night, but I certainly
remember waking up on Christmas Day.  I don't know how long it went on as I
lay dormant, but finally, rising towards consciousness, I became aware of
the most pleasant feeling on my face and hair.  My eyes were still closed,
and I couldn't hear a sound, save for my own breathing, and the crackle of
logs on the hearth.  Except for the extreme warmth of the room, there was
nothing to remind me of the events of the previous night.  I lay still,
eyes closed, and basked in the most wonderful feeling that seemed to move
across my eyebrows, down my nose, across my lips, around my ears, and
through my hair.  The strange feeling flowed across my face like
electricity, yet with the gentle touch of a summer's breeze.  As it
continued, the pleasant sensations seemed to build, and I would have been
content to let it continue forever when I felt Will shift his position ever
so lightly on the couch beside me.

	I opened my eyes to see him leaning over me, an intense look on his
face, as he traced his fingers ever so lightly across my face.  Still
naked, he didn't notice that I was awake for almost a minute, and then as
he did, the most extreme look of horror flashed across his face.  He tried
to scramble away from me, but his feet got stuck in the blanket that I had
wrapped him in, and he crashed heavily down on top of me.  Instinctively, I
hugged him tightly, crushing him into me to stop his struggling.  I looked
to his face, and saw the look of horror still there.  His struggles
gradually subsided as I continued to hold him tight, his rapid breathing
returning to normal.

I looked at his face and Will stared balefully back at me for a long
moment, and then burst into tears.  I let go of him with one hand and
stroked the back of his head, telling him that everything was okay, that he
had done nothing wrong.  His crying didn't subside, and quite
automatically, I began to rub his back with the hand that had been resting
on it.  Gently, more softly than I could have imagined I was capable of, my
hand traced lazy circles on his back.  This seemed to calm him down faster
than my words, so I continued in silence, the circles gradually getting
bigger and bigger.  My hand toyed with the protruding nubs of his spine,
playing with each one for a moment before moving on.  My hand traced each
shoulder blade, from the nape of his neck, covered in downy blond peach
fuzz, to the little knobs at the top of each of his arms.  I gently traced
the length of each trapezius and over to outline each tiny delicate collar
bone.  Downward my hand searched in lazy circles, toying again with the
little raised nubs of each vertebrae, then onward into the trench of his
lower back, and back to the top, repeating the whole process again.

By my hand's third trip, Will seemed much more calm, and I again risked a
look at his face.  He stared into my eyes, searching, his face so close to
mine that I could smell the sweetness of his breath.  I was still stroking
the back of his head with my right hand, and despite his best efforts, he
seemed to be slipping into a pleasant dreamy trance.  I took note of this
and quickly zipped my left hand down his back and poked a finger into the
crack of his rump and wiggled it.  He let out a delighted squeal, the
trance broken, his problems momentarily forgotten, the happiest smile on
his face.  I quickly resumed stroking his hair, and rubbing his back, as if
nothing had happened, and he calmed down.  I waited patiently, stealing
looks occasionally at the boy's face.  Each time he seemed about to slip
into the trance, I would slide my hand down to his rump crack, some times
wiggling my finger in the top, sometimes further down.  Each time, he
giggled delightedly and squirmed into me.  By the second time I had goosed
him, his arms were wrapped happily around my neck, his warm, soft face
resting on my shoulder.  I could feel his body heat even through my
sweatshirt, and his soft breath tickling at my neck.  He continued to make
happy noises, so I kept up alternately rubbing his back and goosing him.  I
don't know how long this went on.  Its safe to say, at least fifteen
minutes, perhaps more.  I don't know.  We were both having fun, we were
both enjoying the game no matter where my fingers landed.  Once, by
accident, my fingers ended up goosing the back of his scrotum, and a couple
of times I found my fingers on his anus, almost penetrating.  None of this
offended the boy; he positively reveled in the attention.  If anything, he
was becoming more relaxed with me, which greatly increased my chances of
goosing him where I wasn't aiming.  All in all, I had never seen such a
happy creature in my life as the squirmy naked boy clinging to my neck.

All too soon, we were interrupted by the phone.  Reluctantly, Will rolled
off of me so that I could get the phone.  I barely made it before the
answering machine picked up.  Rob was on the other end, looking to set up a
time to talk with the boy about the events of the previous night.  He
apologized for calling early (I had absolutely NO idea what time it was),
and asked about Will.  I related that he seemed much better after a long
hot bath and chicken soup, and that he seemed to be fine.  At about this
time, I felt two small arms wrap around me.  Will looked up at me
mournfully, his bright green eyes shining with unshed tears.  It was clear
that he was thinking about his home situation and I wrapped my arm around
his head and hugged him in tight against me.

After the call from Rob had broken up our little game, I decided it was
time to feed Will.  Still hugging him, I led him to the kitchen and told
him I was going to make breakfast and that he could help if he wanted.
Without much conversation, we made lots and lots of bacon (we both love
it), poached eggs, and hash browns.  Placing the food in front of him, I
proceeded to make crepes, stuffed with cherry pie filling.  I thought his
eyes would pop out when he saw the finished product, topped in ready whip,
cherry filling leaking out the ends.  It was quite hard to keep ahead of
him as he ate 'til he was stuffed.  Finally, I got to sit down and eat some
breakfast myself.  Will watched intently as I ate, and didn't make any
attempt at conversation.  When I finished, he followed me silently to the
sink, and we washed the dishes.

 When we were well into doing the dishes, and after I had graced the tip of
his nose with a large mass of soapy bubbles, Will finally broke the
silence.  "Um, Mr. O'Connor, you really don't mind me being naked, do you?"
he asked.

	I was completely taken off guard by the question.  I hadn't thought
about him being naked in the hour or so that we'd been in the kitchen
cooking and eating.  I had really enjoyed spending time with him, and I
honestly forgot that he was naked.  This shocked me for a moment,
especially when I remembered how obsessed I had been the night before with
checking out each and every part of his body in detail.  I didn't know how
to answer Will.  If I said "yes", he'd be upset, wouldn't he?  And if I
said "no", then I'd be doing something wrong, right?

	I stopped washing the dishes, completely frozen by the dilemma.
What a conundrum.  What to do?  Seizing what I thought was my best chance,
I told him that he was my guest, and that he should make himself comfy.  I
reminded him where I had placed some clean clothes, if he wanted them, and
I told him it was his decision what to wear as long as we were alone.

"Cool!" he cried, and scampered out of the room.


XIII

	I'd like to say that Will put on the clothes that I had set out for
him, or that he put on his own clothes, but that was not to be the case.
In fact, getting Will into clothes reminded me of WWF wrestling.  There was
lots of posturing, threatening, speechmaking, squirming, escapes, and
struggling before I could get him decently attired in sweatpants and a
sweatshirt.  Washing my dog had never been as hard as getting this boy into
clothes.

	Rob's interview with Will was short and to the point, and I was
glad for that.  The things that the boy was saying had happened to him the
previous night were almost too much to hear.  I wondered if he knew how
close he had come to death.  It was quite hard to bear, and yet the boy was
somehow able to discuss this with Rob, a total stranger, in a rational
manner.  What strength this kid had!

	When Will had finished, Rob sat across from him and silently
finished his notes.  I wondered what he was thinking.  I was sure that he
saw his own son when he looked at the boy.  Looking up, Rob asked Will if
he was comfortable staying with me.  Will replied that he was, and that he
felt safe and begged Rob to let him stay.  Turning to look at me, Rob asked
if I was comfortable having Will in the house.  I turned to look at Will,
and saw the fear in his face.  Before it got any worse for the kid, I
answered Rob that he was no problem and that I was happy having him with
me.  Nodding his assent to my statement, Rob called his sergeant and told
him to meet us at my house.

* * *


Rob's sergeant came along shortly with an older gray haired man, and
immediately, without benefit of introduction, they cloistered themselves in
my TV room with Will.  No attempt was made to include me, or to introduce
me to the newcomer.  I recognized the sergeant from when he was a
D.A.R.E. officer at my school, and felt quite puzzled at the way he snubbed
me in my own house.  I couldn't figure out who the other man was.  He
dressed too well to be a caseworker for Child Protective Services, besides,
he was too old.  Most of those folks burned out before turning 40.  It's a
cruel world.

While the group was occupied in my TV room, I went to my den and made my
Christmas phone calls.  I had to use my cell phone because the little group
kept using my regular line.  Despite the Christmas cheer that I was helping
to spread, I felt quite anxious.  By the time I had finished my phone
calls, Will had been in the room with the cops for over forty minutes.

I didn't know what to do, so I decided to at least try and pretend that
things were normal.  To achieve this illusion, I decided to bake cookies.
It seemed a waste of perfectly good cookie dough (I prefer it raw myself),
but it would make the house feel and smell festive.  It would also help me
to keep my hands and mind busy.  I was taking the second batch of Tollhouse
cookies out of the oven when Rob came to get me.

When I entered the room, it was apparent that Will had been crying.  His
face was all red, puffy and wet.  The gray haired man, whoever he was, was
sitting on the couch next to Will, an arm wrapped around his shoulder
protectively.  He didn't seem to be having much luck in comforting the boy
and seemed quite relieved when Will jumped up and ran over to me.  I felt
awkward as the crying boy wrapped his arms around me tightly and renewed
his sobbing, but instinct took over and soon I was hugging him back,
whispering nothings in his ear, trying to calm him down.  Will calmed down
faster than I thought he would, and finally the gray haired man spoke to
me.

"Mr. O'Connor, my name is Dan Miller, and I'm the duty judge for the
holiday.  This is quite a mess we have here."

	At hearing this, Will hugged me even tighter and looked fearfully
up at me.  He was shaking all over despite the almost oppressive heat in
the room.  He seemed to be having trouble standing so I moved him back to
the couch and we sat down where Will had been sitting when I entered.  The
judge scooted over to make room and resumed speaking.

"Will's situation troubles me deeply," said the judge.  "And I am at a loss
as to what to do." Motioning to Rob, he continued "If you'd be good enough
to take William out to sample some of those chocolate chip cookies that
we're all smelling, I'd like to talk to his friend alone."  Will clung to
me tightly, but relented when Rob gave him an exaggerated sad look.

	The judge talked to me for about a half hour.  The gist of what he
wanted was for me to assume temporary custodianship of Will, by direct
court order, at least until family court had resumed after the holidays.
He promised that the police would investigate how or why Will's mother had
come to "forget" about him, and he also promised direct financial support,
also by court order.  He wanted me to know that I was under no obligation
to say 'yes', and that his purpose in using the court order was to protect
me from legal action by the boy's mother and any possible repercussions
that could arise when the school system was apprised of the arrangement.
This judge was one slick character and I was glad that he was on Will's
side.


More coming soon....


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