Date: Sat, 13 Dec 2003 21:43:50 -0600
From: Fredric L. Brothers <flbrothers@hotmail.com>
Subject: ANOTHER LAWN BOY STORY - Part 15  (Man/Teen)

                       ANOTHER  LAWN  BOY  STORY
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
                           By Fred Brothers
     Copyright (c) 2003 Fredric Law Brothers - All Rights Reserved

       --------------------------------------------------------
NOTE CAREFULLY: The following is a copyrighted work and is intended for
private, individual use.  It may not be reproduced by any known method,
  distributed or posted on additional web sites without the expressed
                    written consent of the author.

    Disclaimer:  This story is fiction.  It bears no connection or
   resemblance whatsoever to actual or specific persons and/or life
      experiences or situations.  If you do not appreciate a gay,
     intergenerational love story (that means man/boy love to the
 uninitiated or brain dead), or you're under 18 years old, then please
        leave now!  Okay?  You have been warned.  Enough said!
       --------------------------------------------------------

                                Part 15


     So!

     That's it!
     Clay leaves that easily.
     That quickly.
     That silently.

     I am ashamed.
          Ashamed of my actions .
               ashamed of my reactions.
     And I am totally bummed.

     I thought we had something going .
          Something developing .
               And now . now we have nothing!
     Nothing!

      I  sit  in  the kitchen, hunched over my bowl of chili ... barely
eating.   This was going to be such a nice meal...together.  Now  every
thing has turned to shit!

      I bury my face in my hands.  Suddenly I see myself sitting in the
small  kitchen of a future apartment in Moscow.  I'm alone.  I'm almost
always  alone  on  these foreign assignments.  I'm eating  something  I
bought at a take away shop, and I can't for the life of me identify  it
or  remember  what  it is supposed to be.  I leave it  unfinished,  and
slink  into the tiny bedroom.  I stretch out on the bed.  At least  the
mattress  is good - new I was told.  Then again, new in Russia  doesn't
mean good by any stretch.

      The  ringing  phone breaks the string of depressing pictures  and
thoughts.  It's Malcolm - again.  "Did you get my emails Cole?" he asks
almost breathlessly.  "With the contracts?"

     "Take it easy.  Please!  What's the great rush?"

      "Sorry.  I know I'm overdoing.  But I just want to nail this  one
down  soon.  They've been bugging the shit out of me for the  last  two
weeks to get someone.  Knowing that I'm possibly getting you is a great
prize."

      I  laugh.  "I promise to look them over tonight, Malcolm.  And  I
should  have  an  answer  for  you by  tomorrow  evening.   I  have  an
appointment in Milwaukee in the afternoon."

     "Appointment?  About a job?"

      I  hesitate.  Should I tell him?  "Okay.  Yes.  It's about a job.
And I will say no more.  Now please ... "

     "Okay.  Okay.  But maybe...uh...maybe we can sweeten..."

      "I  said no more.  Please!  Now, good night, Malcolm.  I'll  look
over the paperwork and let you know."

     Jesus!  He is becoming a pest!

      I go into my office, turn on the PC, and check the execution of a
series  of  programs  I  had been testing.  Good  progress.   Only  one
bombed.   I  go to the Internet to surf for a while.  I find some  male
amputee  web  sites  and look at the photos there.  I  have  definitely
become  interested in these men...Clayton, of course, being the reason.
Some of these guys are quite attractive and I become aroused.  But none
can tempt me like my Clayton.

      HA!   MY  Clayton!   What  a joke.  I've  done  a  fantastic  job
alienating him...and there's nothing left between us.  I wonder if I'll
ever  see him again.  I wonder if he'll even bother to take care of  my
lawn and garden.

      Something in the back of my mind is gnawing away...bothering me...
something I'd thought of before but never acted upon.  I wonder  why  I
never  did.   Why haven't I tried to learn the cause or  causes  -  the
reason if you will - of Clay's problems?  Is it fear of what I'd find -
or  just  an oversight?  Whatever the reason (or lack thereof),  I  get
onto  a  medical  site  I occasionally use in my work.   The  diagnosis
section  asks the user to list symptoms and it will supply an  educated
answer.  Okay.  Let's give it a try.

      I  enter  the  symptoms  I'd observed - his  height,  low  muscle
development,  boyish  appearance, scant body hair,  speech  impediment,
unchanged  voice,  poor learning skills, etc.  I  list  about  a  dozen
things but do not include the amputations.  It takes about five seconds
and  presto!   There's  a list of possible troubles/diseases/syndromes.
Six, to be exact.  And heading the list is something I'd never heard of
before  -  a  genetic  syndrome  resulting  in  large  skeletal  growth
(especially  his  limbs),  learning disabilities,  along  with  reduced
libido,   infertility,  enlarged  breasts  and  small,   underdeveloped
genitals.

     The  lead  article is long, detailed, technical, and it  loses  me
quickly  -  way  over my head.  It's from the American  Association  of
Clinical Endocrinologists.  But I persevere.  This, and other extracts,
is definitely and eye-opener.  I am stunned...surprised...and dismayed.

      Apparently,  Clayton  is  afflicted with Klinefelter's  Syndrome,
first  identified  in  1942  by a doctor at the  Massachusetts  General
Hospital.    It  is  a  form  of  primary  hypogonadism  and   requires
testosterone  replacement  therapy.   The  physical  results  of   this
syndrome include small testes, small penis, gynecomastia (formation  of
female  type  breasts),  diminished  libido,  small  or  underdeveloped
prostate, decreased physical endurance, possible heart problems,  lower
bone density, learning disabilities, autoimmune disorders.

     Yes!   This has to be it!  Clayton has a serious and not  uncommon
genetic disorder.  The latest statistics indicate occurrence in one  in
approcimately 400 adult males.

     God!  Why didn't I see this before?  Why didn't I do the research?

      I  decide  to  do  more  checking - this time  focusing  on  male
amputees.  I read some of the psychological literature.  The  fact that
absolutely  floors me, and makes me totally crazy, is that the  suicide
rate among amputees who have lost at least one arm and one leg is twice
that of those who have lost only one type of limb - one or both arms or
legs.

      I  become extremely agitate.  This information, suddenly flooding
in  on  me, is just too much to handle.  All I can think about  is  how
ignorance is bliss.  Information, and too much information at that,  is
driving me bonkers!

     God!   Genetics?   Suicide?   Clay's  physical  and  psychological
problems are legion!

     I  begin to pace...wondering if I should call...or maybe go to see
him.   Should  I  call Franny - and let her know what I've  found  out?
Christ!   How  stupid!  Of course, she knows!  And so does  Clay!   Why
didn't he tell me?  I am that untrustworthy?

     It's  11  PM  -  much too late to do anything.   Clay  has  school
tomorrow.  But I know I need to do something...and to do it as  quickly
as possible!  But what?  What can I, practically a stranger, do?  What?
What can I do more than his grandparents are already doing?  How can  I
help make his life better...more comfortable...more fulfilling...safer?
And,  most  importantly,  should I?  Tomorrow!   Yes.   Yes,  tomorrow!
Let's  tackle this problem tomorrow.  I'll call Franny.  We can discuss
it.  Yes.  Good plan.  Yes.  Tomorrow.

                       ^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

      The  buzzing of the front intercom wakens me.  I'd dozed off.   I
press  the intercom button on my desk and the mini-screen pops to life.
There's  someone standing at the front door holding  a  pizza  box.   I
didn't order a pizza - especially not at this late hour.

     "Yes?  May I help you?"

     "Hey, Cole.  It's m-m-me...Clay."

     "Clay?  Wha - what the hell are you doing here?"

     "Aren't you guh-guh-gunna leh-leh-let me in?"

      I  scamper to the front door.  As I open it, I see a car  pulling
out  of  the drive - Franny's car.  Clay walks in toting the pizza  and
goes  directly into the kitchen.  I pull in his bag.  Has  he  returned
for  a  particular reason?  Is he moving in?  And why did Franny  drive
him here in the middle of the night?

     "What's going on?" I ask.  I'm in a complete quandary - at a total
loss.

      "Nuh-nothing.  Nuh-nuh-nothin' at all.  Thought yah mah-mah-might
be huh-hungry."

     "Hungry?  Thought I might be hungry?"

      He  nods.  "Yeah.  I am!  I'm awe-awe-lways huh-huh-hungry."   He
takes  off his jacket and throws it on a chair.  He's wearing the Bulls
basketball jersey, this time over a white tee shirt.  I start to become
aroused...but then remember what happened earlier in the day between us
...and  what I read about on the web.  My burgeoning erection  deflates
rapidly.

      "I  see  you switched to the split hook hand.  Any reason?"   His
entire  prosthesis  is  exposed, along  with  the  accompanying  Velcro
straps,  harness, cables, etc.  I find it to be a tremendous turn-on  -
and I still haven't figured out why.

      "Yeah.   The  muh-myo-electric is muh-muh-much more truh-trouble.
The  hand  geh-geh-gets dirty and I goh-goh-gotta recharge the bah-bah-
batteries and stuh-stuh-stuff.  It cah-cah-can be a real peh-peh-pain."

      "Sure, but this one needs that harness and the straps.  Isn't  it
terribly uncomfortable?"

      "Nah.  It's nuh-nuh-not bad.  In fah-fah-fact, I rah-rather  lah-
lah-like it."

      Now  he moves to stand directly in front of me.  He puts his arms
around  my  waist.   This takes me completely  by  surprise  -  and  is
starting to get most provocative.  First, he shows up at my front  door
at  11:30  at night and now he's holding me in an embrace.  "I goh-goh-
gotta ask you soh-soh-some-thih-thin' Cole.  Okay?"

     "Sure."

      "Duh-duh-do you luh-love me?"  I am stunned speechless.   It  was
not  exactly  what I was expecting.  "'Cause I nuh-know I  luh-luh-love
you...I luh-love you a lah-lah-lot!"  My mouth is hanging opened and my
eyes are wide.  What a staggering turn of events!

      I  start  to  say  something  (I can't  remember  what),  but  he
continues.  "Buh-buh-before you answer, I goh-gotta teh-tell somethin'.
Somethin' veh-veh-very impor-tah-tah-ant.  You gotta nuh-know thah-thah-
that  I  goh-got some very serious proh-proh-problems...uh ... meh-meh-
medical  proh-problems."  He looks directly into my eyes.  I know  what
he is going to say - I read the literature tonight.  Is he testing me .
seeing if I become upset or agitated when he explains the problem?   "I
goh-goh-got a bah-bah-bad..."  He takes a deep breath.  "I was buh-buh-
born wih-with Klah-Klah-Kl..."

      "I  know Clay.  You were born with Klinefelter's Syndrome -  also
known as XXY Syndrome.  I know."

      He  stares at me open-mouthed.  It's a few seconds before he  can
speak.  "You nuh-know?  How?  How cah-cah-can you?"

     "I  learned  about  it  tonight...on the  Internet.   I  did  some
research  at various databases and medical sites I have access  to.   I
entered  the symptoms that I...that I thought I saw...you know  saw  in
you...and it popped right up.  Simple as that."

     "Yeah.  Poh-poh-popped up.  Sih-sih-simple."

     "I'm sorry, Clay.  I didn't mean to make light of anything...or to
treat  your  problem off-handedly."  I give him a little  peck  on  his
cheek  and he giggles.  "That's better.  Anyway, I know it's a  genetic
problem ... you  were born with it...and there is no cure.   I've  been
going  through  some...um...reports for the last hour.  So,  you  don't
need  to  worry about me...or my reaction.  I know and...and  I'm  fine
with it."

     I can sense sudden agitation developing.  "Fuh-fine?  How cah-cah-
can you be fuh-fine?  I'm noh-noh-not!"

      Clay  statement  certainly  takes me  aback.   I'm  not  the  one
afflicted.  He is!  What do I mean?  What am I trying to tell him?   "I
know  what you're saying, Clay.  And I'm sorry that I sounded flippant.
What I really meant to say was that...that these so-called problems are
not  important to me...well, they're important but not that...but...but
...what I'm really trying to say is that...well, that I love you too. I
am very much in love with you.  This . this problem . this syndrome you
have ... doesn't make the slightest difference to me...and how  I  feel
about you ... not one iota of difference in the tremendous  feelings  I
have...and my love for you."

      "Oh!  Wow!"  His face breaks out into a wide smile that warms  me
to the depth of my being.  "You luh-luh-love me?"

     I nod and give him a big smile.  "Absolutely!"

     His face is serious again.  "And...and...now thah-that you nuh-nuh-
know, it meh-meh-makes no dih-dih-diff- ..."

      "It makes no difference at all, sweetheart.  Absolutely none."  I
place  my hands around his waist and gently pull him closer to me.   "I
am  deeply ... and truly...and completely...in love with  you,  Clayton
Ritchards."   I  stare deeply into the magnificent blue  eyes.   "After
what  happened  this  afternoon, though, I...well,  I  was  feeling  so
miserable  at the thought of not seeing you...of losing you ... that...
that...well, I had an absolutely miserable evening."

      "I'm suh-suh-sorry...so suh-sorry fuh-for the weh-weh-way I  beh-
beh-been bee-bee-behavin'."

      "I understand.  I do.  You've been hesitant and tentative...while
I...well...I've been ready to jump your bones anytime."

     He giggles when I say this; then his expression turns serious.  "I
ah-ah-appreciate whah-whah-what you say."

      "And  these  changes in mood and attitude...that you can have  so
suddenly?  Well, I understand them much better now."

      "Ah-ah-and the seh-seh-sex pah-pah-part?  It...it duh-don't  meh-
meh-make ... ummm ... meh-make too muh-muh-much difference?"   I  don't
answer  immediate, and he becomes uneasy.  "I neh-need a hormone  shoh-
shot  every  cuh-cuh-couple of weh-weh-weeks.  And  theh-they  duh-duh-
don't work too greh-great."  He stares at me . expecting an answer.   I
say nothing ... yet.  I can hear the panic in his voice.  "You  dih-did
read `bout thah-that...dih-dih-didn't you?"

      I  kiss the tip of his nose.  "Yes...yes I read about it.  I read
everything I could.  The sex part...as you so delicately put  it ... is
very  important...very important indeed.  I have to admit ... it's very
important to me."  I can see his eyes take on a certain glazed  look...
and feel his body go slack.  "But I don't think it's the most important
part  of  a  relationship.  It's just one part of a complex and  multi-
layered bond.  And I'm sure we'll be able to make things work...work to
our satisfaction...so that we'll be able to have great sex...satisfying
and fulfilling for both of us.  Okay?"

      He  seems pleased.  He moves closer - as if to kiss.  I see  Clay
close  his  eyes and open his mouth.  Okay.  If that's  what  he  wants
that's what I'm here for.  I'm only too happy to fulfill his desires.

      I  open  my mouth and surround his slightly quivering mouth  with
mine.   He  presses his lips forcefully into me and I pull him strongly
into  my  body.  I am alive with incredible sensations coursing through
my  body - feelings of passion, desire and, most particularly, love and
wonder.   I  love  this boy and the fact that he is in  my  arms  again
practically overwhelms me.

      I  move  my  tongue slightly into his mouth and I  can  feel  him
beginning to suck on it - lightly at first, then more strongly.  I push
in more.  He begins to moan lightly.  When we break the kiss, I can see
that he's very anxious for another.  This time I see him open his mouth
and I let him surround my lips.

      He slowly moves his tongue into my mouth - very slowly.  I'm sure
this  is  his  first experience frenching.  He takes it  slowly ... and
delicately ... and lustfully.  My passion climbs.  My  already  immense
desire  for this boy reaches new heights.  I am no longer in a suburban
Chicago house...but on the top of Mount Olympus...at one with the gods.

      The sound of our kisses reverberates through the kitchen.  We hug
tightly, then try to regain our breaths.  We smile at each other and  I
lightly peck at his lips.  He giggles delightfully.  He is flushed  and
more beautiful than ever before...more desirable than any man I've ever
known ... or ever seen.  He is the epitome of absolute male beauty.  Of
that, I am certain.

      "Now  I  have a question for you."  He looks at me seriously  and
questioningly.   "Okay?"  He nods.  "What kind  of  pizza  do  we  have
here?"

                       ^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

      Clayton  does most of the eating, and I lovingly watch  him.   He
looks  so delicious...so incredibly appealing.  After we clear away,  I
slowly and with much tenderness and concern, lead him down the foyer to
my  bedroom.  We have our arms around each other's waists.  He seems  a
little wary as I turn off the lights in the kitchen, but is smiling and
comes  along very willingly, showing no hesitation.  He moves into  the
room rather nonchalantly, looks around, sits down on the bed and begins
to undress.

     "Wait.  Please wait, Clay.  I'd love if you'd let me undress you."

     "You shuh-sure you wuh-wuh-wanna."

      "I'm  positive."  He responds by stopping and gives me  a  rather
uncertain smile.

     I  know  I want this - to be patient, gentle and thorough.   "Okay
with  you?"  He manages a small smile and nods hesitantly.   I  know  I
will  need his assistance, especially in removing the prostheses.   I'd
helped  him  remove his leg once but had never done anything  with  his
arm.

     I kneel in front of him and remove the sneaker from his good foot.
I take off the sock and begin to rub his foot - massaging it gently but
firmly.   Clayton has a beautiful foot, and although I'm not into  feet
as  a  rule,  I  find his foot to be exceptionally attractive.   It  is
large,  beautifully shaped and the translucent skin shows off an almost
delicate sheen.  There is a slightly fuzzy tuft of gorgeous red hair on
the  top...and I find it beautiful and an immense turn-on.  I lean over
and  place  a light kiss on it.  His response is an almost purring-like
"Mmmmmmmm."

      "Glad you like it.  I got plenty more like that."  I smile up  at
him  and notice that he's a little tense.  "I'm so happy you came  back
tonight - or is it this morning?  I was going a little crazy after  you
left."

      I  sit next to him and put one arm around his shoulder.  I  smile
and  stroke his face with the back of a hand.  He too smiles.   "That's
beautiful ... you're beautiful.  I like to see you looking  happy.  You
look so fantastic when you smile.  It lights up the entire room."

     I squeeze his shoulder firmly, since my hand in resting on part of
the  harness  of  his  prosthetic arm.  I move my hand  down  his  arm,
stroking  and squeezing the soft, enticing flesh of his bicep and  what
appears  between  the straps.  He closes his eyes and throws  his  head
back slightly.  "Hmmmmm."  He is moaning lightly.

       "You are the most beautiful and desirable person I've ever known
or  seen.  I know I love you...and want you...and love being with you."
His response is quite animated.  He throws his arms around me and pulls
me tight, while diving his tongue deep into my mouth.  The kiss is long
and luxurious...and surprisingly passionate.  This boy is heaven-sent.

     "Christ!  That was great Clay.  You're becoming an A-1 kisser."

     "I nuh-know!  I goh-goh-got a greh-greh-great teacher."

      He flashes a wonderfully boyish smile.  We kiss again...and again.
It is most wonderful...most fulfilling...and  most fervent.

      I stand and gently lift his legs up and onto the bed.  He gets  a
sudden look of panic but it is soon replaced by a small smile and  what
I  take  to be a look of acceptance.  I get on the bed and lie down  on
his  right side.  I gently caress his face.  He turns to me and  closes
his eyes.

     "Everything okay?"  I ask.

     He nods,and responds slowly.  "Yeah, Cole.  Eh-eh-everythin's greh-
great.  Beh-beh-better.  Thah-thah-thanks."

      "Thanks to you.  I know I'm happy ... and thrilled you are  too."
I  move  my  hand slowly down his neck and onto the top of  his  chest,
tickling and rubbing the bottom of his throat and his smooth chest.  He
giggles and seems to relax.  "And everything will be even better.   You
and  I will be great together...when we...when we  sleep together...and
hold each other...and make each other feel comfortable...and warm...and
loved."

      He  rolls  closer to me and drapes his left arm  over  my  chest.
"Yeah.  Luh-luh-loved."

                       ^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

      I  undress Clayton...and he undresses me.  It is not without some
tears...some tension...a certain amount of trauma...and a little drama.
But  it is a delightful surprise how little real, deep-down angst there
is ... some, but not much.  He seems to know what is to happen and  has
accepted it.

     I squat on my haunches.  He stares at me, the quizzical expression
growing  on  his face.  "Please remember, sweetheart, that  I  will  do
nothing that you don't want.  I love you...and I want you to love  what
we do together.  Does that sound good?"

     He nods and smiles.

      I  decide to describe everything I'll be doing so that he doesn't
become alarmed.  "First, we need to remove your jeans.  Okay?"

      He nods again and moves his hand to the belt.  "No, no.  Let me."
I  move  my hands.  "I'm going to unfasten the belt...unzip you ... and
then take them off."

      I  undo  the belt, unsnap and unzip the jeans.  I move them  down
slightly  exposing the top of his underwear.  I'm surprised, because  I
expected him to be wearing the bottoms of the Bulls outfit, or at least
baggy  boxers.  The ultra-white briefs take me completely by  surprise.
The sudden glare almost startles.

     I  push  his jersey and tee shirt up, to reveal his stomach.   I'm
amazed at the beauty of the very white skin of his belly.  I lean  over
and  lightly kiss the exposed flesh.  The warmth...the smoothness...the
scent...drive me wild. I continue to rub him with my very moist lips...
and Clay starts moaning.

     "Uhnnnn.  Oh Cole!  This is suh-suh-so great!"

      I  lift my head.  "Thanks.  I thought you'd like it...like  it  a
lot."   He  watches closely as I continue to lap at his glorious  skin.
He  lifts  his butt slightly; it seems he wants me to remove the  jeans
now.   I look at his face and see him nod.  I slip the jeans down  over
his butt.  I pull them down his legs...over his feet...over his toes...
and completely off.

      I  am stunned...shocked...and tremendously please by what I  have
uncovered.   I  see  his  leg prosthetic - so artfully  designed ... so
beautiful...so sleek...so high-tech.  And I see his natural leg.  It is
fantastically beautiful - lovely, slim, sleek, and long.  His thigh  is
practically   hairless,  the  skin  translucent,   criss-crossed   with
beautiful blue veins.  In fact, the only hair I notice is on his  lower
leg.  The  golden  shimmering, red hairs appear to be  downy  soft  and
luxurious.   I  lightly run my hand over them.  They feel sumptuous  as
they gently play against my palm and through my fingers.

      I  look  at Clay's crotch.  The pouch of his briefs seems  barely
filled  - it appears empty.  It just seems to hang down.  I cannot  see
the  outlines  of  his penis, his testicles or even  his  scrotum.   It
almost ... almost  looks like the area between his legs  is  devoid  of
genitalia.   I  remember ... with some  panic ... that  one  effect  of
Klinefelter's is small, underdeveloped sex organs.

     I  place  one hand on his left thigh and slowly move it  until  it
rests  in the crevice between the leg and his torso.  I gently move  it
until  it  lies  on the pouch.  I press down lightly.   I  squeeze  him
softly and I hear a sudden in-rush of air.  He lets out a low sound...a
quiet  "Unhhhh."  His penis is flaccid and I cannot feel either scrotum
or testicles.

     I shift slightly and gently lift his foot with my hands.  Again, I
kiss the top, while continuing to caress the sides.  Clayton's toes are
long,  slender  and  amazingly well formed; even  the  little  toes  is
straight and uncurled.  I blow on them and he twitches and giggles.

     "Like that?" I ask.

     "Yeah.  It fih-fih-feels guh-guh-good."

     I lean into him and lick the tip of his big toe.  I kiss it.  Over
the  years, I've found that many of my partners liked when I licked and
sucked on their toes - and I'm going to try this with Clay.

     He  makes no sound.  But I can feel the foot and part of his lower
leg  quivering at my touch.  He enjoys what I'm doing.  So far so good.
I  lean  over and kiss the top, this time rubbing my stubbly chin  over
the  tip of the toes.  Clay breathes in deeply and makes a small sound.
He  likes  it...he seems to like it very much.  I know I'm enjoying  it
immensely!  I continue placing a string a little kisses on his foot.

      I  move my lips to the end of the big toe and kiss it.  I poke my
tongue out and start licking all around the end.  I do it lightly...and
soothingly...and Clay responds by making a few more cute little noises.
I  gradually  push  my lips lower, and lower still, until  I  have  his
entire toe in my mouth.  I lick and suck on it, while Clay continues to
make those adorable sounds.

     The  taste of his flesh is exquisite.  I breathe deeply to capture
and relish each and every single molecule of his essence.  The feel  of
his  strong, young toe in my mouth is delightful.  He begins to  wiggle
it  slightly and the pleasure increases.  I maneuver to get  the  first
two  toes in my mouth, and swirl my tongue around them, poking into the
gap between.  Totally delightful...totally and awesomely delightful!

      Eventually I can get four of those slim toesies into my mouth  at
the  same time.  I lick them and suck them and feel the heat of  having
this  beautiful boy's flesh inside of me.  It is magical  -  absolutely
magical!

      I begin working up from his foot - kissing and bathing his ankle,
then  up onto the calf.  Here Clay has the most hair I've seen  on  him
yet.   His shin is coated with those sparkling, glistening golden hairs
-  golden  with a touch of fire.  As I rub my lips through  the  glossy
thicket,  I am transfixed - and transformed.  I have become  a  gentle,
soothing, patient lover...someone deeply and unimaginably in love  with
my partner.  It is feeling I have never experience before.  The newness
surprises and delights me.

     I  tantalizingly  tug on those light hairs  with  my  lips.   Clay
begins  to  squeal slightly.  I rub my lips and tongue over the  entire
area, bathing it with my saliva.  The flavor is uniquely Clayton -  the
faint  and fabulously erotic scent that has been luring me all weekend.
Always there...always enveloping the boy...enrobing the air as he walks
by...in the bed where he sleeps. The lasting sweetness clings to him...
the heady richness...the loveliness that is this marvelous boy.

      As  I  reach his knee and begin kissing the front of it, he bends
and  raises the leg, giving me access to the region behind.  I lick  it
hungrily, marveling in the incredibly smooth softness of the skin.   It
is  a pleasure - a delight beyond the realm normally offered to us mere
mortals.

      I soon straddle this leg and begin to rub his delicate thigh.  It
seems to be coated in fine, almost invisible blondish-red hairs.  I can
feel  the delicate musculature beneath the skin.  I delight in the feel
of  those muscles...the texture of his skin...the slim, delicate  taper
of  his  leg.   I move my hands...slowly upward and down...seeking  and
manipulating  every square inch of the tempting, fresh, fleshy  surface
of  his  gorgeous body.  I don't push my hands into either the  crevice
between  his  thigh and his torso, or under the briefs.  I don't  think
he's quite ready...but maybe soon.

      I lean over...and put my face against his thigh, rubbing my cheek
and  lips over the surface.  I hope it feels good and soothing to Clay,
because  I  know I could stay this way forever.  Again,  his  scent  is
overwhelming  my senses - in both meanings of the word.  My  senses  of
smell...and taste...and sight...and touch...are  totally and completely
absorbed with the power that is Clayton.  And my wits seem to have gone
on furlough at this time...leaving me with nothing but thoughts of this
magnificent creature.

     I look up again...but he is not looking at me.  His face is turned
away ... and  his  breathing is deep and slightly ragged.   I  continue
looking at him, as he slowly turns to face me.  "I what-want yah to nuh-
nuh-know...Cole...that it's...thih-thih-this is the veh-veh-very  first
tuh-tuh-time...thah-thah-that anyone's...anyone tuh-tuh-touches my boh-
boh-body...tuh-tuh-touches me this way.  Anyone!  Thah-thah-that anyone
...wuh-wuh-wants...wuh-wuh-wants to...to tuh-tuh-touch my boh-boh-body."

     "Are you sure?"

     "Yeah!  I'm shuh-sure."

      "Then  you're forgetting how I massaged your leg stump the  other
night."  His eyes widen.  "You seemed to like that very much.  Did  you
forget?   Don't  you think that qualifies as touching your  body?"   He
flashes  me a sexy little smile.  "Right?"  He smiles again  and  nods.
"And then today...I rubbed your arm...and your shoulder...and licked at
your armpit?  You seemed to like that a lot, right?"

     His smile widens.  "Yeah.  I suh-suh-suppose."

      "You suppose you liked it?" I respond, with mock hurt in my voice
and on my face.

      "Suh-suh-sorry, Cole.  Nuh-nuh-no.  I dih-did lah-lah-like it.  I
luh-luh-love it.  Suh-suh-so suh-sorry."  He sits up quickly  and  hugs
me  tightly.   "I dih-dih-didn't mean it!  I luh-luh-loved it  weh-weh-
when  you  tuh-tuh-touched me!  Buh-buh-both times.  Buh-but I forget."
He snuggles against me and kisses my neck.  "I'm suh-suh-sorry.  I am!"

      "That's  perfectly  all right.  Lets just  chock  it  up  to  the
excitement of the moment.  Okay?"

     He flashes a shy, appealing smile.  "Yeah.  Eh-eh-excitement."

      "I  think you've known for a while now that I've wanted  to  make
love to you.  Don't you?"

     He whispers a low "Yeah."

     "And  I do.  I think you're the most delicious man I've ever known
...or  ever seen."  He blushes mightily.  "It's true...the god's honest
truth.  You are the most desirable man . and I want to be with you  all
the time...all the rest of my life...and yours."

     He turns away again.  Something is seriously bothering him.  "Buh-
but...buh-buh-but you've neh-neh-never seen my whole boh-boh-body.  Hah-
hah-have you?"

      "I'll admit I haven't."  I gently touch his face with the tips of
my  fingers.  "But I know it's not going to make a whole heck of a  lot
of  difference.  You physical appearance...how you look...is  only  one
part  of  your tremendous beauty."  I bend over and kiss his eyes,  and
rub  my  lips on his face.  We kiss again.  When we break we  are  both
smiling widely.

     "I'd like to take off your leg, now, Clay.  Okay with you?"

      He nods his assent.  "Wuh-wuh-want me to heh-heh-heh-help?  Whah-
what shuh-shuh-should I duh-duh-do?"

     "I'd like to try doing it myself...if that's okay with you."

     "Yeah.  Suh-sure."

     "Great!"  I straddle the right leg, and proceed to do everything I
remember  Clayton  doing the other night.  He keeps  close  watch.   He
seems  pleased,  but  I admit that I'm sweating heavily  and  am  quite
nervous.   I've never done anything remotely similar - except to  Clay.
I carry to leg and set it down on a nearby chair, then return to remove
the liner.

     "Cuh-cuh-could you wipe the luh-liner dry?"

      "Sure."   I  get a towel from the bathroom, dry the  perspiration
from the liner, and put it with the leg.

      "Thah-thah-that was a greh-great juh-juh-job, Cole!  Juh-juh-just
greh-great!  You're geh-geh-getting' guh-good at removin' puh-puh-parts
of meh-meh-me."

     I laugh at his statement.  "Thanks.  When there's something I want
to do badly enough...well, I just know how to do get it done.  I'd like
to get the job on a permanent basis."  He blushes.  I climb back on the
bed.  He raises the stump, inviting me to rub and soothe it.

     I kneel near his legs and he rests the stump against my belly.  It
feels  wonderfully  warm.  As I move my hand down  to  stoke  it,  Clay
begins  to  make those endearing little noises again.  He is no  longer
watching what I'm doing but has his eyes closed.  His face seems serene
- even a little eager.  I know I am...eager beyond all capacity.

      I  wrap my hands around this slim, tapered, limb remnant.  I  can
feel it beating, moving, throbbing in my hands - the energy, the strong
emanations, the desires seem to be pouring out of this boy through  his
mutilated  leg  and into my desirous, needy body.  I  stroke  the  full
length  with both hands - the left one gradually extending up to Clay's
protruding  hipbone, while my right one gradually  extends  its  range,
too, and begins to poke under those pearly white briefs.

      His  skin is hot...and he's perspiring.  "Uhnnn," he moans rather
heavily,  in  a much deeper tone than I had ever heard before.   "Cole.
Yessss!  Duh-duh-do it!  Nah-nah-now!  Duh-duh-do it nah-now!"

      "Yes,  Clay.  Anything...anything at all. And thank you ... thank
you  so much.  Yes."  I lean over and kiss him . gently at first...then
harder...with much passion and excitement.  "I love you, Clay.  I  love
you ... and I know my love will only continue to grow.  And I will love
you...always."

     "I luh-luh-love you suh-suh-so much, Cole."

     I move my fingers under the elastic of his briefs, then slowly and
carefully  lower them.  I stare at what is revealed.  I  stare.   I  am
thrilled.  I am mesmerized.

      I lower my face.  Through the fog permeating my brain, I can hear
Clay  sobbing lightly...sobbing like a small child...a small child  who
has lost something...a prized possession, perhaps...or a beloved pet.

      I  am  disturbed.   "What's happening now?   He's  crying  again?
Didn't I understand him correctly?  Did I misunderstand the meaning  of
what he said?  What's going on? And why?"

      I  look  down again.  I see the magnificent fan of  a  red  pubic
thatch  radiating  outward from the base of his  lovely  penis.   I  am
oblivious  to anything else that is happening.  I am on a quest  now...
and  nothing  - absolutely nothing - will deter me from the  successful
and complete accomplishment of that pursuit.


                          The End of Part 15
                         (To Be Continued....)
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 Thanks for reading Part 15 of my latest story, here on the wonderful
            and comprehensive Nifty Erotic Story Archives.
The sixteenth and final part to this story of Clayton and Cole will be
                            posted shortly.
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                      say is greatly appreciated.

                        flbrothers@hotmail.com
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                             Thanks again.
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