Date: Wed, 23 Jan 2002 21:50:38 -0500
From: Bill Adams <lilb2k@hotmail.com>
Subject: Finding Summer Chpt. V

The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual
acts.  Don't read this story if:
*You're not 18 or over, *If it is illegal to read this type
of material where you live, *Or if you don't want to read
about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this
story on a website or reproducing this story for
distribution without the author's permission is a violation
of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against
violators.  E-mail responses to this or any other of my
stories, story suggestions or other 'constructive' comments
or advice may be sent to:

lilb2k@hotmail.com

Finding Summer - by lilb2k (Adult-Youth).
Copyright 2002 by liltales


Finding Summer
An Original Series by LilBill

Chapter V
A Day Over Different Waters



I was awakened by the sound of my prince stirring next to
me. A warm breeze blew through the large open room. Large
white drapes waved in the wind coming through the balcony.
My lover woke and cleared his eyes. I kissed his chest and
then his lips.

"Good morning my love," I smiled, "how did you sleep?"

"Like a rock!" he yawned.

"How do you feel?" I asked as I made finger circles around
his right nipple.

"Loved," he smiled back as he thrust his head to me ending
in a sweet kiss.

"Where are we?" he asked becoming more lucid.

"Cancun, Mexico" I said with a grin.

"What!?!" he shot up in bed.

"See for yourself," I pointed to the open balcony.

He sprang from the bed and ran out onto the balcony. I was
not concerned about him running out naked, as our room was
the penthouse of the Palace de Sol hotel.

"Oh my god!!!" he shouted, "Look at the water! It's so
blue!"

"Yes it is," I agreed, standing behind him placing my hands
on his shoulders.

What would follow was a flurry of questions regarding our
journey, destination, and how we were going to pull this
off. The journey I have already explained, so I will spare
you that again. As to the destination, I have been coming to
this hotel on the Yucatan Peninsular for the past ten years.
The luxury hotel has wonderful amenities for the typical
tourist. What lies beneath the surface, for those who can
afford it, is a whole new world. A completely separate
staff, all of which are hand picked and screened, serves the
Penthouse. All staff sign strict confidentiality agreements,
which serve to comfort the elite business class as well as
royalty and celebrities. There are unimaginable freedoms
that this ensures. As for how to get away with it. well that
was left to the talents of Mr. Bruce Fielder. The cell phone
that Jack's grandmother required him to carry whenever she
was away was set to relay to a satellite phone on the night
stand. If his grandmother felt she needed to contact him, he
would be there. The jet was ready to go at moment's notice.
And let's just say that if Grandmother chose to come home
early, well. she would be delayed. Everything was in place.

Breakfast was served in the solarium. I took the liberty of
ordering a variety from the menu. We ate under the warmth of
the morning sun. I never grew tired of watching Jack. Every
movement that he made, every sound that passed his lips,
every expression on his face drew me closer to him. And he
watched me. I saw how he studied me. Whenever we noticed
each other observing, we would start laughing. When we had
finished eating he came over and sat on my lap. We had
become more oblivious to our nakedness with each passing
moment. I held him in my arms as he ran his fingers through
the hair on my chest. This had become one of his favorite
things to do.

"Well," he said with a slight laugh, "At least I'm starting
to not feel like I've got to go to the bathroom."

`I meant to ask if you were in any pain," I had forgotten
that I had invaded his ass last night.

"It doesn't hurt really. I mean. I'm a little sore right at
my asshole, but it feels like there's constantly something
inside of me. Feels kinda neat actually."

He stood up and bent over the edge of the table, spreading
his legs.

"Can you see anything wrong?" he said pulling his cheeks
apart.

His hole was a little red but not damaged in any way. I
loved to look at it. He looked t me over my shoulder and
smiled as I kissed the tip of my finger and then touched it
to his sweet opening.

"Is that the proper way to give your `Prince' a kiss?" he
smiled wide.

"I suppose that I could do better for my Prince," I smiled
as I leaned forward and pressed my lips gently against his
exposed hole.

"Mmmm," he cooed, "Now that's what a call a kiss."

"I thought you'd be pleased," I kissed each cheek before
giving him a playful slap on the ass.

"Hey," he laughed as he spun around, "Who said you could
smack my ass?"

"It seemed like the right thing to d at the time," I laughed
back.

"Oh really," he smiled as he put his arms around my neck,
"Well I guess then it's ok."

We shared a few more kisses and then took a shower.  I loved
soaping his body. He was playful this morning and I new it
was one of those times when we were as father and son more
than lovers. I teased back with him holding him close to my
body and playing drums on his ass, laughing as each beat
bounced off his bubble butt. He laughed and giggled as I
tickled his sides. When we were finished, we got dressed in
swim trunks and headed for the beach. We played in the ocean
for hours and we savored every moment. We walked the beach
and held each other's hand tightly as we mingled among the
tourists. Before we knew it, the sun began to set. We held
each other close as the crimson ball melted into the ocean.
As the light faded, we made or way back to the penthouse.

We showered again and allowed the warm ocean breeze to dry
us as we watched the tourists gather like ants on the street
below. I ran my fingers through his hair and he nestled his
head in my chest.

"So," he spoke up, "What are we doing for dinner?"

"Well," I turned him so that I could take his head in my
hands, "we can eat in or out. It's up to you."

"We don't have anything to wear. So I guess we can't go
out," he looked disappointed.

"Of course we can," I bent down and kissed his forehead, "we
just have to get some clothes."

We put on robes and I called for Bruce. He arrived at the
penthouse in a matter of moments.

"The arrangements have been made Sir. The tailors are on
their way to get Jack's measurements. They are preparing
your outfit as we speak."

"Brilliant Bruce, as always," I placed my hand on his upper
arm.

There was a knock on the door and Bruce let quickly ushered
in the tailor. He placed a step box on the floor in front of
Jack.

"If it pleases you Sir," the tailor motioned for Jack to
step up onto the block. Jack looked at me and I nodded
affirmation. Jack stepped up and stood before us.

"Sir," the tailor again spoke, "the robe sir."

Jack looked confused. I walked behind him, leaned in, and
whispered into his ear.

"It's ok sweetheart. He's gonna measure you." I kissed him
on the cheek and removed his robe.
Jack stood naked before the tailor. Without hesitating, he
began taking measurements. First the arms and chest, then
the waist, then the leg. He paused halfway up Jack's thigh.

"Sir," he said looking up at me.

"Of course," I answered. I reached around my lover and
cupped his penis and testicles in my hand, lifting them up
out of the way. Jack was frozen solid.

"You will look like a Prince my love," I whispered into his
ear as I gave a slight rub to his cock with my thumb. He
turned to me and smiled.

"I will be back in one hour with the clothes you requested
Sirs," the tailor said as he stood up.

"Excellent," I replied and Bruce showed him to the door.

"You could have warned me about that!" Jack socked me in the
arm.

"I'm sorry baby," I laughed as I rubbed my arm.

"You handled yourself like a gentleman Jack," Bruce smiled,
"and I think you enjoyed it more than you think."

We all looked down and saw the impressive erection sticking
out from my angel's body. We all laughed as Jack donned his
robe again.  There was a knock on the door exactly one hour
later. Bruce spoke at the door and brought in two garment
bags and boxes. He laid them out on the bed and excused
himself from the bedroom, shutting the door as he left. Both
suits were black Italian silk. I thought it fitting that we
both don passion red silk bikini briefs. Shoes were provided
by Cole-Haan. When we exited the bedroom, Bruce was waiting
with a red velvet lined, silver tray holding two platinum
Rolexes.

"Absolutely stunning Sirs," Bruce smiled.

"How much did this cost!?!" Jack was beaming.

"That's not important my dear," I leaned over to give him a
kiss, "Are the stylists here Bruce?"

"Yes Sir," I motioned to the sitting room where two chairs
had been set up facing each other.

We sat and smiled at each other as he stylists worked our
hair. When they were finished, we took our leave for dinner.
As we descended in the private penthouse elevator, Jack
constantly checked himself in the mirrored walls. I must say
that I warmed inside at his obvious display of his age. I
remembered what it felt like to be his age and to feel grown
up.  I smiled at him and he took my hand in his. Bruce stood
with his back to us at the door. Jack motioned for me took
bend down.

"I'm glad we're going out to dinner," he whispered, "but I'm
having a hard time focusing on it."

"Why is that my love?" I whispered back.

"Because," he smiled, "I can't stop thinking how awesome
it's gonna be."

"Dinner?" I asked.

"No silly," he smiled at first, and then fixed his stare,
"when you fuck me tonight on the balcony."

I choked on my breath as he said this. He was becoming much
more direct about our lovemaking. It was exciting. I just
smiled at him, reached over and grabbed his cock through his
pants.

Upon reaching the lobby, we were led to through by Bruce.
People stared as we made our way to the sidewalk outside. As
we strolled down the street, we smiled at the other couples
passing us. We held hands. I'm sure no thought anything more
than `look at the rich man and his son'. We knew the truth
and that made it hotter.

We ate dinner at a French restaurant over looking the
lagoon. Bruce had called ahead and made the arrangements. We
had a low-lit section all to ourselves. The owner waited on
us personally.

"It is our pleasure to receive you this evening Mr.
Wiengroe, a drink to start?" the owner was a short, heavyset
man of Spanish origin.

"Chardonnay," I smiled at Jack.

"Very good sir" he walked away.

"Why is it that everyone does exactly what you say Carl?" he
looked sincere.

"Simple honey," I took his hand, "money and power."

We dined and talked. I found it both stimulating and
somewhat comical that I was on a date, at the most expensive
restaurant in Cancun, with the lover I had always searched
for, and to everyone else, I was merely a father on vacation
with his son, eating dinner. We discussed business and
politics, romance and literature. His depth of study did not
surprise me for I had also the task of spending most of my
years growing up at a preparatory academy. What was unique
about Jack was his heightened level of empathy. One might
make the assertion that his sensitivity had been borne out
of the tragic loss of his parents. They would be incorrect.
Jack's parents had long since abandoned him to the
Dovershire Academy for Boys. He had no real connection to
them. It was my belief that Jack was a very emotionally
available young man. His acute awareness of the suffering of
other people opened him up to see the world in a different
way than his peers. But that insight had come with a price.
Through other's pain, he was ever reminded of the tragic
solitude of his own existence. This of course made for the
question always in the back of my mind, was he really in
love with me, or was his need to be parented and loved so
strong that he would compromise his body to attain it. I
knew different, but the question vexed me. So I asked him.

"Can I ask you something?" I began.

"Sure," he swallowed, "Anything."

"Some people," I began, "might say that I am abusing you"

"Hell no!" he interrupted.

"Let me finish sweetheart," I smiled.

"Sorry." He put his utensils down to give me his full
attention.

"Some would say that I am taking advantage of a child who
wants a father so badly that he would do anything to have
one; even if that meant having to have sex with him." I knew
this sounded harsh and abrupt, but I had to put it on the
table in the clearest manner possible. "Some would say that
a boy your age couldn't possibly understand what he was
doing and was confusing sex for love, and that I was using
my age and power to manipulate you. That you were being
forced into this relationship by me."

I watched as his face grew tight and the tears began to well
in his dark eyes. He slammed his hands on the table, "Fuck
that! I found you! I started the sex with you! I didn't come
over to your house asking to borrow some sugar and you
pulled me inside and fucked me! I love you," his tears
flowing, "I love you, and not because you're rich, I'm rich!
And not because of some sick need to have father! I never
had a real father, so I wouldn't even know what one looked
like. And I do know what I'm doing. I have been fucking
other boys at school for years and I've never felt with them
what I feel when I'm with you! When I'm with you I feel safe
and loved and cared about. I know that this looks weird to
other people. Fuck other people! You are not some sick child
molester! You don't try and have sex with me 24/7. You love
me. Yes, I like to fuck! I'm a twelve and a half year old
boy who likes to get fucked by a grown man! So what! Why is
that anyone else's concern!?! I don't examine their lives
and tell them what I think is right or wrong, it's none of
my business. You are NOT hurting me! Does everybody get
that!?!" he stood up and looked around, "I AM HERE BECAUSE I
WANT TO BE HERE!"

"Ok, ok," I reached over and took his hand leading him back
to the chair, Bruce stood at the doorway and stopped the
owner from investigating the noise, "Please sit down and
take a breath."

"Please don't stop loving me because of what other people
might think or say. I know that this is gonna be hard. I
know that you could get in trouble. But," he whimpered and
through the mature display of minutes passed, became a
little boy again, "I love you"

"I love you Jack," I had begun to cry as well, an act that I
assure you hadn't occurred in years, "I won't leave you. I
just had to know for sure that you were not in anyway being
manipulated by me. I'm sorry to have had to put you through
that. Please forgive me."

He sprang from his chair and collapsed in my arms. Our
mouths became locked and I knew that this was the moment
when our lives together would begin again. I had never felt
so engrossed in love before. It was consuming.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't still have some
reservations in the back of my mind. But I had resolved to
let them stay there, at bay. As we walked back to the hotel,
hand in hand, I watched as he took in the sights around him.
He was so alive. There was a time when I was dead. But Jack
had breathed life into my soul. I knew now that I would
weather any storm, pay any price, and fight any battle, to
insure that he would never feel another moment's pain.

As we entered the hotel I could feel a tension in his
posture. Our hands never separated, but he was distant. I
knew that I had caused this by my questioning at the
restaurant. What must be going through his young mind? Did
he doubt my love for him because I made us take a look at
the unpleasant reality of our union? I was aching inside. As
the elevator closed I felt my heart sink. We stopped to let
Bruce off on the floor below the penthouse. As the doors
closed again I felt a lump growing in my throat. Jack had
not said a word since we left the restaurant. We had had our
moment after he defended his love for me, but I feared that
he had been too hurt by my doubts. I struggled to come up
with the right words to break this unbearable silence, but
found nothing. The elevator came to a stop and the doors
opened into the penthouse. Jack let go of my hand and walked
inside. Casting his coat over the back of a chair he made
his way to the balcony. I followed, and after stopping
behind him, placed my hands on his shoulders. He turned to
face me and grabbed onto the black tie hanging from my neck.

"I'm sorry," he began to cry.

"Oh no," I closed my hands around his reassuringly, "you
have nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes I do," he freed his hands and wiped his eyes, "I didn't
mean to embarrass you. I acted like a stupid little kid."

"No you didn't," I was relieved that at least he wasn't
angry, "you will never understand the gift you gave me
tonight."

"What gift?" he half smiled, "I did nothing but behave like
a child."

"Listen to me," I said firmly, "what you did in that
restaurant is something that no one has ever done for me
before. You fought for me. You risked everything by exposing
your heart to me. I will never be able to repay you for what
you've done for me."

"You mean you're not mad at me for that," he looked
confused.

"Why would I be mad at you?" I loved this boy with a passion
I had never dreamt possible. "I don't give a fuck what
anyone in that restaurant thinks! You are the only thing
that matters to me! I should be the one to be apologizing
for making you feel that you needed to defend yourself."

"But you were right," he began, "you are risking your whole
life to be with me. What am I risking? You could lose
everything if the wrong people found out. They could hurt
you. I would die if that happened."

"That is a risk that I am willing to take," I cupped his
face in my hands "I want to love you for the rest of my
life."

"Please don't ever leave me," he cried again.

"I would give my life for you," I wiped his eyes for the
second time, "and I will give my life to you."

I carried my lover into the bedroom, undressed him, and took
him to bed. I turned off the lights.and held him tightly as
we both drifted to sleep.