Date: Wed, 14 May 2008 15:45:44 -0500
From: Grady Hawk <gradyhawk@gmail.com>
Subject: Borders of Paradise (Introduction)

DISCLAIMER: Though this story intends to portray a real-life paradise for
boylovers, it is indeed a work of FICTION. Please do not email me asking for
the location of this paradise, as it does not exist.


 Borders of Paradise (Introduction) by GradyHawk, 2008


 Maybe this is a work of fiction. Maybe it's a dream. You can think what you
want, but I can tell you that it's a paradise, and that it's real. A
boylover's dream come true, a whole floor of a hotel, just for us. Just for
men and their Companions. And the Companions aren't simply men who look
young. They are boys, and you can pick which one you like, which age, which
race, which face, which dream!


 I remember the first time I read the ad.


 "Tour the borders! Young Companions! Dreams come true! BLs and GLs
welcome!"


 BLs? Did they mean boylovers? Was I reading that right? So I created a fake
email and sent an email to the tourist agency. I was nervous about what to
write. What if it was a setup? What if "bls" meant something different? I
knew I needed to be careful. Here's what I wrote.


 "Hello, I am enquiring about your ad in the magazine. It says "young
companions." How young do you mean? I am interested."


 That's all I wrote. I wasn't comfortable asking much else just yet. The
response I got startled me.


 "As young as 10," it said. Ten? I read on. "If you are interested, please
call this number," and gave me a number to call.


 I wasn't so sure about that. Call some random number? How would I ask them
what I really wanted to know, how would I ask them if they had young boys I
could have sex with? Was this too good to be true? Was it actually something
that I could finally experience, after all these years of clandestine
relationships with boys? Could I escape the fear, just once, of being found
out and thrown into jail? My mind went a million miles an hour. I called,
then chickened out and hung up. I don't know how many times I called before
I finally got the nerve to talk.


 "H..Hello, my name is...Bob, and I'm calling about your advertisement," I
said, making up a false name on the spot.


 The voice on the line was smooth and calm. "Hello, Mr. Hawk, we've been
expecting your call." I froze. How did he know my name? Busted? Uh oh! "It's
ok, Mr. Hawk, your secret is safe with us. We've been watching you for
years," and he chuckled. I still couldn't speak, but I couldn't hang the
phone up, either. Another chuckle from the soft voice on the phone,
"Remember the video set of the asian twins you got in 1998? I sent that to
you."


 I remembered, alright. Boy, did I remember! Those 8 year old twins did
everything I'd ever dreamed about with each other, sucking each other, rim
jobs, even fucked each other! I jerked off to those videos for years, and
still remember them, the shape of their eyes, their little toned bodies, the
way they were so eager, even competitive, to please each other. He broke my
reverie.


 "Mr. Hawk, are you there?" I could almost hear the smile on this guy's
face, and he knew I was there; he could hear me breathing, I knew.


 "Yes, yes, I'm here." I cleared my throat and tried to clear my mind. "So,
that was you? I loved those..."


 "Yes, Mr. Hawk, that was me. Now, how would you like to make that a
reality? Those twins are too old for you now, but we have others..." He
waited for me to speak.


 "YES! I mean, yes, how do I do that?" I was so sick of playing the endless
games to get a boy in the bed with me, the long boring meetings at the
soccer association, the inane ramblings of the boys' parents that I had to
put up with, all the many hoops and steps it took before I was finally able
to reach ecstasy with just one boy, only to have to start all over again
when the boy got too close to me, and his parents got paranoid. If it could
just be easier, more simple...


 "Get your passport, Mr. Hawk, and then call us back." and with that, he
hung up.


 I stood there staring at the dead phone in my hand, wondering where this
was going to go. Was there a real paradise for people like me? Could I
finally stop playing games and find boys who wanted the same thing I wanted,
without interference? I was dying to find out.