Date: Sat, 24 Dec 2005 09:36:27 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nathan Marks <nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James Chapter 6

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and I no longer use the groups mentioned there. My stories are now
archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/.

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive,
if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal
in your country, please do not read any further.

My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but
they are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters
to real people are not intended.

This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied,
printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private
enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written
consent of the author, me!

I hope you enjoy this story.


James: Chapter 6


Troubled because he kept waking up thinking he heard the boy moving.
Thinking, wishing or praying? But each time he looked over, James was still
fast asleep on the sofa. The first time he woke up he had remembered the
boy's clothes and gone thought to the utility room to put them into the
washing machine. Some time in the early morning he saw that the duvet had
slipped off and James was laying there, the tee-shirt halfway up his chest,
naked and exposed. He went over and picked up the duvet, but just stood
watching as James' chest raised and lowered. His eyes wandered down over
the boy's smooth tummy and down to his penis. Dare he reach out and touch
him? He gently covered James up again with the duvet to quieten his own
thoughts, but they would not be stilled. Tom went through to the utility
room to put James' clothes on a clothes airer to dry; then walked back past
the sleeping angel and climbed back into his own bed, eventually falling
into another tortured sleep.

James woke to see dust particles playing tag in the morning sunbeams
streaming through the windows. He lay silently for several moments before
he realised that he was not in his own bed. A wave of grief surged through
him. His eyes filled with tears and he rehearsed the events of the past few
days. Remembering where he was, he turned to see Tom, still asleep in his
own bed. What would Tom do with him now? James thought that the only
options were for Tom to hand him over to Social workers or the Police.
James didn't want either, but couldn't see what else Tom would do. His eyes
wandered over the plastered ceiling and around the walls. It was so unlike
his own home where the walls were covered with photos, paintings and his
mother's knickknacks. On the coffee table lay a Sky remote. James picked it
up and switched to the cartoon channels, flick through until he found the
'Jackie Chan' cartoon.

The noise from the cartoon slowly brought Tom to. His eyelids were heavy as
he had not really rested, but he forced them open, blinking in the bright
morning light and turned to watch the boy, who was now sitting cross-legged
on top of the duvet watching Jacky Chan kick ass. He liked Jackie Chan too
and watched the program for a while, letting his mind go round in circles
trying to think of what to do about James. What was the right thing? What
was the legal thing and was that the best thing for the boy? Was he just
deluding himself that there was any other option than to hand the boy over?

The boy's laugh was innocent and infectious. Submerged in a fantasy world,
James managed for a few moments to forget the challenges and problems that
lay ahead. This time Jackie was saved by his uncle's magic. James wished he
could do magic. He heard Tom laugh at the cartoon and looked over to see
the man propped up on his elbow watching. He caught Tom's eye and said,
"Hi."  "Good morning. Did you sleep ok?"  "Yeah. Thanks."  "I like Jackie
Chan too."  "It's one of my favourites."  They watched as the cartoon
ended.

"What would you like for breakfast, Cornflakes, Wheatabix or toast?"
"Toast please."  "Honey or jam?"  "Honey."  "Milk or fresh orange juice?"
"Milk, please."  Tom got up and walked through, still only wearing his
white briefs to cover his morning erection, to make the breakfast. James
watched as his newfound friend walked past. He saw the man's muscles ripple
as he moved and wondered how big his own would get as he grew. As Tom
passed, James couldn't help but notice how big the bulge was in Tom's
briefs. His dick must be huge! There was no sexual connotation to his
thoughts, just preadolescent curiosity. He wondered what it looked like and
how big it was? Having grown up without a dad, he rarely saw other males
naked, except when his class went swimming and those were just boys his own
age. A few of them had sprouted a few hairs, but most were still baby
smooth. Some bragged about their sexual exploits, but secretly James
thought they were all making it up. He wasn't interested in girls. Sex was
something to giggle about, but they were all curious. Another cartoon came
on and his mind flitted away from his questions to the next 2D adventure.

Tom, once he was in the kitchen, rearranged himself. He had not wanted to
look like he was groping himself in front of the boy. Went through to the
utility room and checked whether the clothes he had hung their were
dry. They were. Toilet next, then he washed his hands and went back to the
kitchen to make breakfast. Coffee and honeyed toast for himself and milk
and honeyed toast for James. He brought it all through on a try, sat down
next to the boy on top of the duvet and began to munch his way through his
toast. He hadn't dressed. He was sitting, half naked, next to a 12 year old
boy who was wearing only a tee-shirt. His own penis was rapidly feeling
constrained, trapped by his briefs. He wondered whether the boy could see
the bulge/ If he could, would he care? He drank some coffee and tried to
keep his attention on the cartoon.

James leaned forward to put his plate back on the tray and retrieve his
glass of milk. As he sat back again he glanced at Tom. This was a man. He
looked really strong. He again noticed the bulge in Tom's briefs, but dare
not say anything. It would be just too embarrassing to start asking a
stranger questions about dicks and sex and stuff. His attention once again
was drawn back to the cartoons.

After several more cartoons, Tom decided it was he got showered and
dressed. He told James where he was going and got up. As he walked to the
bathroom he so wanted James to have taken the initiative and followed him,
but James hadn't. He stripped off his briefs and turned on the power
shower. The fast stream of water pummelled his neck and shoulders, helping
to release some of the tension that had built up there. He pulled down a
bottle of Lynx shower gel and squeezed out a generous hand full. He
replaced the bottle and began to lather up his chest, arms, shoulder,
stomach and buttocks. He worked his legs and knees and eventually worked
around his crotch, ball sack and dick. As he stroked the length he
immediately began to get hard again. He thought about James, naked with the
tee-shirt wrapped around his chest. He played through in his mind what he
might have done if he'd had the guts. He couldn't believe what he was
thinking, but neither could he stop.

He ejaculated into the stream of the shower, but unlike his previous shower
jack offs, this was intense, he just kept coming, and coming until he was
so spent his knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the shower
floor. He lay there for ages, waiting for his strength to rebuild. He was
sweating like a pig. Eventually he was able to stand again, exhausted, but
strong enough to stand. He showered again to remove the sweat, but he was
spent, physically and emotionally. He stepped out the shower just as James
walked into the bathroom to use the toilet. He looked at the boy, then at
the towel on the rail. He had to walk across the room naked to reach it,
with James there watching. He started to get hard again.

James stood for a moment, watching Tom walk naked across in front of
him. Well, that answered his question about how big it was and he watched
it got longer and thicker. "Sorry, I just wanted to wee."  "Go ahead. We're
all boys here." Tom sounded a lot calmer than he felt. He strode over and
picked up a towel and began drying himself. He half turned so that he could
watch James as he lifted the toilet seat, pulled up the front of the
tee-shirt and began to urinate. Damn, he was hard again, but he dare not do
anything about it with James in the room. He slowly dried himself,
deliberately taking his time, wanting James to see him naked. The boy
finished and gave it a shake, flushed and walked over to the sink to wash
his hand, taking another sidelong glance at his host. Tom was drying his
hair, so the rest of him was completely visible and James' curiosity got
the better of him He couldn't help but stare at tom's now fully erect
penis. He suddenly felt completely inadequate, scared, confused and
embarrassed. He was scared in case Tom caught him looking, but that didn't
stop him looking. He wondered, doubted he'd ever be that big.

"You're clothes are washed and dry. They're in the utility room off the
kitchen."  "Thanks." With that James hurriedly made his way out of the
bathroom and back down to the kitchen. For some reason it suddenly seemed
important to be dressed before Tom got back downstairs. Was it
embarrassment at his prepubescent body? James didn't know, just he didn't
want Tom to see him naked. He didn't want Tom to compare their bodies and
see just how much of a child he really was. He needed Tom. He needed Tom to
keep on being nice to him.

Tom went to his dressing room and got dressed. So far he'd played with the
idea, but done nothing wrong. He was still struggling to come to terms with
this confusing twist to his own sexuality. By the time he reached the media
lounge, James was dressed and back in front of the plasma screen watching
cartoons. Tom looked at the clock: it was a little after ten. Tom sat down
next to James and tried to bring his thoughts into some order. It was
Saturday morning and he rationalised that although people would be looking
for James, little would really be done over a week end. He could
justifiably look after the boy till Monday and hand him over then,
maybe. There was no way anyone would let a 23 year old single male keep a
12 year old boy. It was just a case of how long he could put off facing up
to the reality of the situation. Shit!

"Well, seeing as it's Saturday, why don't we go out and do something fun/"
"Really/ Like what?"  "Oh, I don't know. How about the London Eye?"  "Ho,
yeah. I've been on that and it's great. You can see all over London from
the top."  "Right the, that's settled. We'll do the Eye and then get
something to eat and decide what to do with the rest of the day."

James was delighted that Tom made no reference to the real problem: what to
do with him. It seemed they were just going to have some fun. They took the
underground to the south side of the river and made their way to the BA
ticket office. Tom always thought it strange that a giant Ferris wheel in
the middle of London was managed by British airways. They queued to get
tickets and then went out to queue to board. Each 'pod' took a dozen or so
people. They boarded and almost immediately began to climb. Soon they were
pointing out the sights to each other; Hoses of Parliament, Nelson's
Column, Buckingham Palace and all the way down to Canary Wharf, Greenwich
and the Dome. Tom had brought his digital camera and took some photo's of
James, then showed James how to use it and James took some of him. A
Japanese man insisted that they should let him use the camera to take some
of them together. The man thought they were father and son. James felt a
surge of warmth flood through him as the unrealistic hope that it could be
so was born. Lunch was MacDonald's: James' choice and then they walked
across the bridge and along the embankment, trying to decide what to do
next. It was unanimous: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire had recently
been released and so they would go see that in the West End.

More to Come...