Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2003 04:42:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Skidd O Rowe <skiddo12@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Knock, Knock" (Chapter One) [M/b, oral, anal, tickle, feet]
WARNING!
This FICTIONAL STORY contains sexual situations between
an ADULT MAN and FOUR MINOR BOYS. If that offends you,
just DON'T READ IT! Simple as that. I DO NOT ENDORSE OR
ADVOCATE such behavior or situations like this, except
within the confines of one's mind and/or the written word.
It's just a FAIRY TALE, folks. No real harm done. OK?
skiddo12@yahoo.com
[Man/4 boys, pedo, interr, cons, oral, anal, tickle, feet]
============
KNOCK, KNOCK
============
by
Skidd O. Rowe
Chapter One - "Simon"
Was flippin' channels in my living room, planted on the
couch opposite my Sony TV, when I heard the doorbell ring. Got
up off my tired ass and went toward the front door in time to
hear the bell ring a second time. Peered thru the peephole,
didn't see anyone standing outside. Then I heard two light
door-knocks, very familiar sounds.
"Hello?" I said, knowin' full well who those small
knuckles tappin' on my door belonged to. "Hel-loooo?"
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"Simon."
"Simon who?"
"Simon sez lemmie in before I sic the cops on ya!"
Knew it.
Unlocked and opened the door to see little Simon
standing there, lookin' up at me with those large Bette Davis
cornflower blu-eyes of his.
"Hi," chirped the lil'blond cherub with the cute lil'
button nose. Thin pink lips stretched into a wide grin, showin'
off those pearly white upper-rows of teeth. "Mind iffa drop by?"
"No, never," I told him. Wasn't expectin' Simon today,
but he knew I sometimes took Fridays off and I knew the kid
enjoyed springin' surprises on me. "Come in, come in!"
"Thanks, Dewy!"
"Sure, be my guest," I muttered as the child scooted in
past me as I closed the door. Noticed the boy was wearin' those
clean white Adidas sneakers I bought him a month ago for his
eleventh birthday. They still looked new. Perfect compliment to
the rest of his outfit; long white tube socks up to his knees,
snug-fitting light-tan e-waist shorts, and a clean white
sleeveless tank-top with the words `Future President' printed on
the front. "You hungry?"
"Yeah," chimed Simon as he stood by my round
clear-glass dining table. Kid took notice of a couple of
unopened envelopes layin' on the table. Today's mail. Boy
looked them over for a few seconds before turning his attention
to the brown box next to them. As Simon gazed at yesterday's
package delivery, I gazed at him. Boy's growin' fast, I thought.
Looks about 4'7", now. Musta sprouted an inch since we first
met two months ago. Light-amber toned tan of the boy's bareslender
shoulders, arms and thighs appeared to glow within the bright noon
sunlight shinin' thru the front windows. His golden-blond hair
almost shimmered in the brightness, or was the summer heat just
playin' tricks on my eyes? "Got any ice cream?"
"Maybe," I teased. Bought a bucket gallon early this
morning, in fact. "Flavor?"
"Cookies `n' cream?"
"Well, let's take a little looksie, shall we?"
Simon followed me into the kitchen as I opened the
fridge freezer and pulled out the bucket. Thing felt icy-hard
and frosty in my hands as I showed it to the boy with a smile.
"You got it! Canna have some?"
"How many scoops?"
Simon held his hand up inches from my face with three
fingers extended up.
"Three scoops," I said as the boy's pinky popped up
fast from under his thumb. "Four?"
Simon just grinned at me with those guileless blu-eyes
that seemed too big for the lil'guile-filled noggin that wore
them.
Just shook my head and groaned before I silently
nodded.
What was I gonna do, say no?
Pulled the carton top off as the boy stood next to me.
Gotta a small bowl from the upper cabinet and opened the drawer to
my right. With the scoop in my hand, I turned and saw Simon with
the carton cap in his small hands. Boy was lickin' the inside
cap! Such manners, I thought. Little blond brat just shows up
unannounced, invites himself in demanding my ice cream like an
entitlement and can't even wait for the four scoops he tricked me
into servin'. Such rude insolence I've never seen in a child.
But what a child he is, I thought. Cute pink tongue dartin' out,
lickin' off the access ice cream, makin' sounds like a cat lappin'
up milk from a saucer. He's so damn adorable. Who wouldn't want
a visit from this blond cherub-faced angel, even if he's really a
lil'demon inside? Was a privileged pleasure for me to serve this
boy. Whatever he wanted. Anything.
With some effort, I dug out one scoop and plopped it
into the bowl. Simon was still lappin' the cap as I dug for the
second scoop. Noticed he had a new haircut; a golden-blond
mushroom bowl-cap. My hand gently tousled the boy's hair. Loved
the soft feel of the child's silken locks against my palm. Boy
looked up at me with a quizzical expression in his wide-eyes, and
a bit of ice cream on the tip of his little nose.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just admiring your haircut."
"Like it?"
"Yes, very much."
"You get one?"
"Yes," I answered. Few days ago, got my dark brown
hair cut. Sides shaved close, but the top light-trimmed and
evened out. Hoped to hide the fact that the top was thinnin' a
bit. "You like it?"
Kid reached his hand out and grabbed a fistful of my
hair. Felt the boy's tight fist pullin' my head down by the
fragile follicles attached to my scalp.
"Hey, HEY!" I lightly protested. "Not so hard. I'm
thirty-two. Need what little I have left."
"Bet'cha just glued'em all on, didn'cha!"
Simon released his grip on my head with a malicious
giggle. I took two fingers, rubbed the dab of ice cream off
the little boy's nose, put them to my lips, made a smackin' sound
and blew my kiss to the kid. Went back to diggin' the last
two scoops out.
Searched the open drawer for a spoon as Simon finished
cleanin' off the carton top. Boy then opened the fridge and
grabbed a can of 7-Up.
"Hey," Simon piped in his high-pitched, unbroken
pre-pubertal voice. "Cool Whip!"
"I take it that you want a little on your four scoops?"
Really didn't need to ask as Simon placed the open Cool
Whip container next to his bowl of ice cream. No doubt the kid's
busy lickin' the Cool Whip top, now. Using the spoon I found,
scooped out a few big fluffy white blobs of whip-cream and
plopped them on top of the already melting ice cream scoops.
"There," I said as I turned to Simon. A bowl with a
mountain of milk, sugar, eggs, cream and chocolate in one hand
and a spoon in the other. "Here you go. Happy, now?"
Yankin' the spoon from my hand, Simon swiftly wrapped
his arm round the whole gallon of ice cream, picked up the
open Cool Whip container with his free hand and darted from the
kitchen, gigglin'.
Stood there a few seconds holdin' MY bowl of ice cream.
"Happy, now!" mocked the devious child from the
dining room.
Just sighed and looked for another spoon. Typical
Simon, I thought. Couldn't really blame him. Had no right to
impose any ground rules on the boy, especially considering the
nature of our relationship. I was his friend, not his father.
Perhaps the only adult he knew who wasn't a parental or
authoritative figure. Still felt like Simon was startin' to
take me for granted. Heck, boys Simon's age are notoriously
fickle. Feared the day he'd suddenly lose interest in me. True,
there were worse things for me to worry about. Simon's parents
might find out about me and my relationship with their little
blond pride `n' joy...or some crusading social worker would.
The boy might suddenly wake up and start liking boys his own age,
or girls...or another adult paederast. But, hopefully, not today.
So, with a spoon in the bowl in my hand, I entered the
dining room to find Simon seated at the table dumpin' half the
Cool Whip into the whole gallon bucket of ice cream.
"Well," I said as pulled a chair and sat next to the
greedy youngster. "Can Simon say, `thank you'?"
"Sure," the boy responded, still immersed in buildin'
his Cool Whip castle on his kingdom of cookies `n' cream.
"Thanks."
Didn't say `Simon sez', however.
Watched the eleven year-old blond impster shovel a
large spoonful of the sugary glop into his hungry little mouth,
amazed he would even try to tackle an entire gallon full. Hadn't
swallowed the first load before he tucked another heapin' chunk
into his trap.
"OOW!"
"What's wrong?"
"Brain hurts!"
"Shouldn't eat so fast, sweetie," I warned him. Hah!
Maybe that'll teach `em some better table etiquette. Maybe not.
Boy shook his little head a bit, then resumed feedin' his
insatiable appetite. Was a fast eater, and a bit of a messy one,
too. Outer rims of the child's small mouth was covered with
gooey white cream. Felt my manhood stirrin' `n' growin'. Was
extending its increasing length against the tightening crotch of
my trousers. Kept imagining the cream on the boy's pretty lips
wasn't ice cream. "Needa napkin?"
"Nah," murmured the kid with his mouth full. He
swallowed, gaze-shifted his big blu peepers at me. Saw Simon's
pink tongue slip out and slowly circle round his mouth, lickin'
up all the cream on his kissable lips, which then formed a
naughty grin. The tease! "Piece `a' cake!"
Could think of healthier cream the boy could be
swallowin'. But Simon said no. He didn't like sperm. Thought
the stuff was yucky. Only let me shoot it on him once, after
much pleadin' and more ice cream, and only on a certain part of
his pre-teen body. Fair. His call, always. Rather live under
Simon's law than the roof of a prison cell.
Bet if Simon's parents busted thru the door now, they'd
have me locked up for life just for feedin' their son ice cream,
as opposed to somethin' else. From what little Simon mentioned
about them, his folks were strict vegetarians. No meat, fat,
salt or sugar, ever. They wanted their only male child to be as
healthy and physically fit as humanly possible. So Simon had to
rely on schoolchums to supply him sweets. Swappin' lunch money,
comic books, baseball cards and shoplifted porno mags for
Hershey bars, M & M's and Twinkies. But then summer started, and
school ended. Poor kid had to find another supplier with sweets,
a stranger with candy - me.
Wondered if that was what prompted this little boy to
contact me in the first place, those two months ago...
"Knock, knock."
Yes. The first two words I heard Simon say. Two months
ago, I was in a video store tryin' to look like I was browsin'
when this ten year-old blond boy suddenly appeared next to me by
the martial arts/chop-socky section.
"Uh...who's there?"
We were there, Saturday. First time and place we met
in person was the time and place Simon told me to meet him when I
first heard his voice, over the phone. Button dialed the phone
number he e-mailed me. He picked up.
"Simon."
"Simon who?"
"Simon sez who's there?."
"Dewy."
"Dewy who?"
I went thru the `knock, knock' routine with my name to
let him know I was the guy who wrote that `knock, knock' message
on the webgroup, the one with my e-mail address at the bottom.
Kid asked me to say my password. I did, the same one I e-mailed
him when he e-mailed me requesting it to check out my private
on-line profile. Repeated my profile to him over the phone; my
physical stats, weight, height, hair/eye color, date of birth.
The city and state I lived in. My job, my hobbies and my
interests. He had already knew all that from my on-line profile,
so he e-mailed me a phone number to call to hear me say it. He
was satisfied and wanted to meet me. Said he lived nearby. No
details. Said we could meet that Saturday at a Mom `n' Pop video
store in the metro area. I knew the place. Told me to be there
by 2:30PM, and asked me what I'd be wearing. Didn't tell me his
age, name, or what he looked like. Just said I'd find out when
he'd find me, then he hung up.
Remember holdin' the phone for minutes, dial-tone buzzin'
my eardrum, feelin' excited and scared. The treble-pitched voice
I heard sounded so young. Feared it might have been a female vice
cop setting me up for a sting. Yet, I also felt...no...I KNEW, I
knew I was talkin' to a real flesh `n' blood little boy. A little
boy who wanted to meet a thirty-two year-old man who "liked" little
boys like him, the stranger with candy his parents warned him about.
So, like Simon said, I was in the video store. Arrived
ten minutes early. Wasn't a member. Just tried to look like the
other few browsin' people in the store. Not so easy. Most of the
men in the place were in the adult porn section. Only females
there were a mother with her five year-old child, a girl. Least
there were no uniformed police around. Nervous enough, already.
By 2:25PM, I was hangin' by the martial arts section. Lookin'
over the Bruce Lee/Jackie Chan/Jet Li vids without really seeing
them. Didn't even see or hear the boy right next to me, till he
spoke. Musta recognized me from the clothes I told him I'd wear
that day. Simon, only ten and 4'6" then, wore a black T-shirt,
blu-jeans, and smudgy white Reebok sneakers. Golden hair was
longer, but he had that lil'button nose, those stunnin' blu-eyes
filled with child innocence, and a sweet smile that slightly
betrayed the boy's mischievous nature.
"Um...Do we wanna get somethin' to eat, maybe?"
"Ice cream!"
Of course, Simon and Dewy weren't our real names. They
were the chosen names we used when we were together, in public
and private. Ironic, that we could only act and feel like our
real selves when we were together, yet never speaking our real
names aloud or in whispers.
Simon certainly knew my real name, by now. Been at my
house a dozen times, slept over twice. Couldn't have missed the
name on my mail, which I never hid. He was now fiddlin' with the
box I received yesterday. Also noticed the bucket carton had
only a remaining third of the ice cream gallon it contained. The
rest, no doubt, in Simon's tummy now.
"What's this, Dewy?" inquired the inquisitive kid.
"CDs?"
"DVDs"
"Videogames?"
"No, just movies."
"Porno?"
"No, no. Just regular movie-type movies. Ya know.
The kind your parents would take you to."
"You know my folks never take me to the movies," replied
Simon with a sulk as his knuckles hit the table, still holdin' the
box. "Won't even lemmie watch TV, cept some cartoons and that
stupid vangelist stuff on Sundays."
"You mean TV evangelists?"
"Uh-huh. Sux."
My heart bled for the helpless child. Imagine,
depriving a needy boy of the things he enjoys and subjecting him
to the horrors of watching Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell. Wish
I could have Simon's parents arrested for child abuse. The
bastards!
"Feels heavy," the curious boy commented. Kid, with
those blu feline eyes of his, reminded me of a cat gingerly
toyin' with an object. "What'cha get?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Simon sez so!"
"Well, then..."
"Can we see one?"
"You got time for a movie?"
"Yeah! What'cha get?"
"Eh, lemmie see. What did I ask for?" I tauntingly
intoned as I pondered this situation. Suspected Simon, that
clever blu-eyed cat of a kid, was in one of his frisky moods.
Knew it the second he asked to watch a movie. If he just
wanted ice cream or to play "Resident Evil" on my Playstation
2, I wouldn't expect any kind of physical horse-play between
us. But when Simon feels like a movie, means he might feel like
playin' with another kind of joystick. Yup. Two months in the
company of Simon taught me his special body language; certain
gestures, signs, signals, seemingly normal questions that all
meant the same message - `let's mess around'. Now should I, an
admitted mouse of a man, indulge this playful little kitty? "Not
sure if remember..."
"C'mon!" squealed Simon. "I got time...for anythin'."
"Okay. Now I remember. Feel like `The Adventures of
Rocky and Bullwinkle'?"
"No."
"Alright. Um...maybe `Who Framed Roger Rabbit'?"
"Uh-uh, those suk! What else?"
"Well, there's...(AHEM)...'Nixon'."
Kid's eyes shot me an `you fuckin' kiddin' me, right?'
look. Of course. Not something to show a pre-teen future
president.
"Fraid the only thing I got left is a subtitled
foreign film from China." I matter-of-factly explained. "Just
somethin' called `Hard-Boiled'."
"Harboiled?" the boy mispronounced. His wide-eyes lit
up upon hearing the name. "Sounds like `Die Hard'."
"It's sorta like that."
"Ooooooh! That John Woo movie! Izzit got that same guy
from `The Killer'? Young Chow Fat?"
"Chow YUN-Fat."
"Yeah! He's kewl! Let's watchit!"
"Uh, you know, Simon. It's in Cantonese."
"What's that? Ain't it dubbed?"
"Yes, but it's also...extremely violent. And, as your
concerned friend, I worry that a movie of this nature would
disturb you to an extent tha..."
"Simon sez shuttup and load it!"
So there. Shoulda known better than to try and argue
with a boy whose passion for violent movies and videogames was
bigger than his one for ice cream.
Simon popped open his 7-Up and chug-a-lugged a portion
down his gullet as I ripped open my package and pulled out
`Hard-Boiled'.
Carryin' his 7-Up, Simon followed as I, a DVD in one
hand and a bowl of meltin' ice cream in the other, headed for the
TV in the living room. Leaned down to the Playstation 2 console
under the boob tube and, as the disc tray popped out of the deck,
couldn't help but wonder who showed `The Killer' to Simon. It
wasn't me. Another boy, perhaps? Another man? Nevermind. None
of my beeswax. Didn't own Simon, he owned me, apparently.
Loaded the disc into the console. Waited till the
title menu popped up before I turned to see Simon sittin'
cross-legged on the carpet floor, 7-Up beside him and the console
controller in his hands. I sat on the couch, still holdin' my
ice cream bowl. Simon was sittin' four feet across from where I
was, and he was maybe just two or three feet from the TV screen.
Kid pressed a button, and the movie started.
"Turn up the volume," Simon said without turnin' his
little head away from the TV. Boy's big blu-eyes were glued
watchin' the opening titles. Picked up the remote and did as he
commanded. "That's kewl. Didn't know he played jazz."
I didn't comment. Just kept quiet. Wasn't really
payin' attention to the movie, anyway. My eyes were glued to the
boy's slender arms. The tanned, smooth skin of his thin bare
shoulders, albows, and forearms were the focus of my attention.
How I longed to touch them. Thought of it made my testicles
ache, but such pain never dampened my fantasies.
I sat in silence, behind the boy whose very presence
had me entranced. Then the film's first gunshot rang out. The
big shoot-out in the teahouse had started.
"Wow!" exclaimed the child as he watched the wildly
choreographed carnage unfold on the screen. As Mr. Yun-Fat
leaped thru the air with both barrels ablazin', Simon uncrossed
his legs and became quite animated with excitement. "WHOOOWE!!
AWESOME!! He's so fuckin' awesome, ain't he?"
Didn't answer Simon, too busy oglin' his sexy lil'body.
The boy's enthusiastic sounds were excitin' enough for me.
Wasn't entirely comfortable with lettin' such an
impressionable child watch such wanton screen bloodshed. Still,
the boy was under my adult supervision, as it was. Anyway, it
felt good watchin' Simon havin' such fun. He was free from the
domination of his parents. Free to be himself and to enjoy the
things he loved that his folks denied him. He was happy, and
that made me happy, and grateful. Simon coulda choosen any man
he wanted on that webgroup. Of all of `em, the boy chose me to
be his pal. Me! I owed him everything for allowing me the
cherished privilege of sharing his friendship and youthful
happiness.
"WOOO-HOOOO!!!" hollered the blond youngster as Yun-Fat,
a gun in each hand, slid down a staircase rail shootin' the living
shit outta couple of baddies. "Outta sight!"
Kid was so worked up, he couldn't sit still. On his
knees, the boy pointed both hands at the screen and jerked his
arms makin' childish bang-bang sounds. Tryin to imitate his
silver-screen idol. How cute. Yet I was a bit worried the boy
might develop a passion for guns. Then I'd truly be guilty of
corruptin' the morals of a minor. On the other hand, he might
possibly improve his reading skills watchin' the subtitles.
Boy twisted on the carpet a bit, tryin' to get comfy.
Almost suggested to him that he should sit up here on the couch,
next to me. But he settled down, restin' on his side-hip, knees
bent and legs together. Gotta good view of the boy's inner
thighs, and a better one of his cute lil'butt in those tight-fit
shorts. Simon had the soda can in one hand, while I suddenly
noticed the other hand slowly untying the long white laces of one
shoe.
Could Simon read my mind?
As the boy watched the movie unfold, I watched his
hand as it undid the knots and loosened the shoelaces. Hoped
he'd pull his Adidas off, next.
But no. Alas. Kid just laid across the carpet on his
side, restin' his little head on his bent arm. Sippin' his soda,
watchin' the movie.
If Simon was plottin' to cocktease me, he was off to a
good start. Felt my yardstick extending to its full hard seven
inches, a tightening fit below my belt.
Minutes passed by as Simon watched the movie, while I
couldn't keep my eyes off the boy's untied sneakers. Kept hopin'
he pull'em off his socked feet. Also hoped he'd peel those long
tube socks off, as well. Hoped he ask me to remove them. Too
much to hope for, perhaps?
Think it was before the big action scene in the guns
`n' ammo warehouse when Simon moved again. Boy rolled onto his
tummy and stretched his lil'bod across the carpet, legs and feet
extended towards me. Noticed the kid's thighs and legs were
filling in rather nicely. Those long white socks covered the
child's shapely calves. Longed to roll the damn things off those
tanned stems, but I couldn't make a move till Simon said so.
Tried to watch the movie. Hoped to ease the increasing
sexual tension risin' within me. When the villain's gang of
motorcycle thugs invaded the warehouse, guns blastin' `n' grenades
explodin', Simon's legs startin' movin'. Bent one leg upward `n'
down and then the other. Watched the boy's legs as he alternately
bended and unbended each one back `n' forth, liftin' one up while
lowerin' the other. Kept doin' this for three minutes. Then, the
kid bent both legs up at once, his shoe-covered feet in the air.
Twisted his ankles around a little before crossin' them, showin'
off the soles of his sneakers. My balls kept achin'. Felt my
cock tryin' to grow itself an extra inch.
Couldn't peel my eyes off Simon's shoes as the boy kept
raisin' and lowerin' them at a steady rhythm for minutes. Then
he stopped. His feet lingerin' in the air, ankles still crossed.
Kid tapped his shoes together. They were pretty loose by now.
Saw the left foot rubbin' the toe of its shoe against the heel of
the right shoe. My pulse rate sped up as I saw the loose-fittin'
right shoe start slippin' off the kid's heel. Boy uncrossed his
ankles as he lowered his left foot while his right remained in
the air. Shoe was half off, just hangin' there, with the boy's
socked heel exposed. Prayed it would slip off. Simon answered
my prayer by shakin' his foot a bit. The loose but stubborn shoe
slid off, but not all the way. Damn thing was danglin' off the
end of the kid's foot. Suspense was killin' me. Finally,
Simon bent his leg back and the sneaker fell off as it touched
the floor. Boy bent his leg up again, his little sock-clad foot
flexin' in the air. Teasin' imp wiggled his socked toes at me as
he kept watchin' the movie, knowin' damn well he was temptin' my
paedophallic lust for boyfeet. Had an urge to pick up his shoe
and sniff it, but didn't. The real show hadn't started, yet.
Simon bent his other leg up. Crossed his ankles,
again. Boy's socked toes started tuggin' at the loose heel of
the remaining shoe, till it slipped off his heel. Kid shook his
left foot a bit till his last shoe was also hangin' off half his
foot. Watched with intense anticipation as the foot flirtin'
child slowly bent his right leg back, leavin' his left shoe-hangin'
foot in the air. Kid flexed his socked foot as that fuckin' shoe
dangled on it. Then, the boy bended his left leg as far forward
as it could go before unbendin' it back fast. Shoe flinged off
and landed on my bulgin' crotch. Yeah, it hurt, but so what? Was
about to sniff the inside of that shoe when...
"Simon sez don't sniff my shoes!"
Fine. Dropped it. Kid never turned his head from the
TV. Musta had extra eyes hidden behind those fine golden locks,
especially since his aim was so good. Picked up my bowl of ice
cream, instead.
Glad Simon was enjoyin' the movie, but perhaps not as
much as I enjoyed watchin' the kid's legs `n' feet in motion,
swingin' up `n' down. Savored the sight of those flexin'
sock-covered beauties. Boy's toes kept wigglin' as he rubbed his
socked soles together. Loved the sound they made when he did
that! Would love it more if he'd do that without the socks. And
even more if there was somethin' between those rubbin' soles. Was
gettin' so worked up, I almost didn't notice that somethin' wet `n'
sticky was oozin' between my fingers.
Not what you think.
"Huh?" I musta said as I realized that the bowl I was
holdin' was overflowin' with melted ice cream, which spilled over
my hand. "Aahh, dammit."
"Whatsup?"
"Nothin'," I answered as I put the bowl down on the
carpet with my messy hand. "Justa little accident I had."
Rising to his knees, Simon turned, crawled towards me
and grabbed my wrist. Pullin' my hand to his cute face, the
little boy started lickin' my cream-covered fingers. What a sight
and feelin' it was! Blond kitty-kat with his wet `n' pink
lil'tongue lappin' the sweet cream off my fingers. Gently stroked
Simon's hair. Couldn't tell which felt greater; the feel of the
boy's soft golden locks between my fingers, or the feel of his pink
moist tongue on the fingers of my other hand. Suddenly felt the
kid's lips puckerin' round the tip of my thumb. Simon tightened
his grip on my wrist as he shoved my whole thumb into his mouth!
His little tongue playfully flicked my thumbtip as the child
slowly fellated my thumb within his warm mouth. Incredible! Boy
then pulled my wet thumb outta his mouth with a suckin' pop.
Releasing my wrist, Simon just smacked his pink lips and grinned
at me with a giggle. Wondered how an eleven year-old boy with
such wholesome blu-eyes could possess such a precocious mind...as
well as a naughty mouth. Honestly wished he'd been suckin' the
cream offa somethin' else.
Risin' to his feet, the lil'thumbsuckin' pre-teen
cockteaser leaped and belly-flopped on the couch. Grabbin' a
throw pillow, the boy propped it under his head `n' albow and
resumed watchin' the flick from the far right-end of the couch.
Kid's 4'7" body was sprawled across the couch. I was at the far
left. My head faced the TV, but my eyes were locked on the boy's
sock-covered soles which were twitchin' only a foot and a half
from where I was sittin'. Of course, Simon knew I was looking.
Boy always pulled this routine when watchin' movies at my place.
Started sweatin' as I crossed my hands across my lap, pressin' my
wrists against the throbbin' sex organ within my trouser-crotch.
Every two minutes, the boy wiggled the toes of his
twitchy feet as he watched the movie. Kept rubbin' my restless
crotch as I watched those cute toes curl, spread and wiggle
beneath the clean white fabric. Musta been new socks. Very
sight of those toes scratchin' the sole of the other foot drove
me nuts as my heavy nutbag ached worse. Then, noticed the boy's
right foot movin' slowly up the length of his left calf. Kid's
foot rubbed the back hollow of his knee-joint. Big toe fiddled
at the rim of his tube sock, and started tuggin' on it. Had to
wipe the sweat beads drippin' from my brow outta my eyes as I
watched Simon's toes pullin' down the sock on his other foot.
Down it went, slowly, inch by inch, uncovering the smooth `n'
hairless tanned calf of the boy's leg. Wanted to touch it,
but I sat still and just watched the long cotton tube slidin'
down lower and lower till it was a crumpled wrinkled white ring
round the boy's bare ankle. Bet he musta heard me sigh, even
thru the TV sounds of gunfire.
Then, for the next two minutes, the boy's legs were
still. Was still lookin', though. One sock-covered leg next to
the bare one. Simon was just lettin' me and my frustrated
erection sweat `n' stir, for now.
But not for long.
After a second, saw Simon's left foot movin' up the
length of his right leg. Curlin' toes fiddled at the sock's rim
till it was hooked. Lil'big toe slidin' his other sock down to
his ankle-bone, baring the light amber-tanned calf of his right
leg. And again, the boy's legs became still...
...For five ball-achin' minutes.
This arousal by visual torture was, for me, both very
excruciating and paederotic. Knew Simon was lovin' every minute
of it. Seemed to get a kick outta bein' the object of a sexual
pervert's desire. Perhaps he choose to meet me cause he
realized that who better to worship the feet of a cute,
golden-blond, blu-eyed, cherub-faced eleven year-old boy, like
him, than an adult male paederast, like me, who loved boys his
age and their feet. Or maybe he just wanted the kind of
attention and understanding from an adult that he couldn't get
from his parents or peers. In anycase, we seemed a perfect match.
Lucky us, I was thinkin' as I suddenly noticed Simon's
right foot slidin' part of the sock off his left foot, uncovering
only his heel. Was too much. Sight of the kid's half bare foot
made my hotrod throb so hard it hurt like hell. Likewise for my
poor achin' balls which were feelin' mighty cramped all locked up
within my pants. Had enough of bein' teased. Either I was gonna
pull out my seven inches now and jerk off or I was gonna do what
I've been dyin' to do since Simon untied his shoelaces.
"Hey!" Simon piped as I impulsively yanked the sock off
the boy's left foot, fillin' my eyes with the liberating sight of
the imp's bare sole and naked little toes, before I grabbed both
of his slim ankles, moved over and propped both of his feet on my
lap...over my bulgin' crotch. "Whadda'ya doin'?"
"I dunno. What does it look like I'm doin'?"
"Cut it out!" protested the child as I clamped the kid's
twistin' ankles between my right forearm and thigh. My other
hand was busy slowly peelin' the last sock off Simon's right foot,
revealin' at last that beautiful bare boysole with those five
naked piggies a-wigglin'. "DON'T! Dewy, please don't!"
Didn't say `Simon sez'.
"I meanit, don...dahaha...BWAHAHAHhhhahahahAHAHHA!!!!"
squealed the helpless boy as my left hand started performin' its
notorious `Dance of the Five Fingertips' across both those trapped
bare boysoles. "DeweeheeheeheeheehahahaHAAHAHAHEEEHEAHAHAH!!!"
At long last, I had Simon's feet where and how I wanted
`em; locked together over my hardon with his naked lil'boysoles
exposed to my leerin' boyfeet lustin' eyes and defenseless from my
ticklin' fingers.
"AHAWAAHAHAHAHEheheheeheehahahaHAHAHAAhheeehehee!!!"
Actually, Simon's feet weren't as ticklish as his ribs
and tummy. I'd have to go for them if I wanted the boy to be
reduced to wild hysterics. But Simon wouldn't allow that. Cool
with me. Was playin' by his rules. Anyway, ticklin' the boy's
barefeet was all I was interested in.
Mainly just raked my fingertips across the tender flesh
of the child's bare boysoles, at first. Loved the wrinkles that
formed when they clinched and flexed at my touch. My hand became
a giant tarantula whose legs tickled and tormented the sensitive
skin of the kidsoles it was walkin' across.
"PleeaseheheeeheheehehaahhaahhaaHAHAHAAHaHAHAHAAAHA!!!"
As I ran a single finger up `n' down one sole, and then
the other, I tried to remember which spots on Simon's feet were
the most ticklish. His soles softest areas? The instep! My
fingertip went around and around, in a continuous circle, on the
skin-soft space between the boy's heel and arch.
"AHAHaaheheheh...gonnahahahahah...gonna get yaahahaa...
gonna get ya fer this!!!..heeheehehee!
Ah yes! Now I remember. Simon's most ticklish spots
are between his arches and his adorable toes.
"Said I'm gonnaahaahahahaahaheeHAAHAAAHAAAAHAAHAHA!!!!"
Second I went for `em, Simon's feet clinched up quick.
But I managed to wedge my finger into the tight crevice beneath
his bare curled boytoes. Digged `n' stratched there till those
supple digits spread `n' wiggled about. Then, he cliched it
again...with my finger caught in the narrow space. Couldn't pry
it loose till I raked the boy's sole with my other hand.
"YAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHEEHAHAHEEHAAHeeheheehhaaahhahaha!!!"
Felt Simon's body twistin `n' jerkin' about as I
tickled his soles and toes without mercy. Was great havin'
those naked boyfeet twitchin' `n' wrigglin' over my monster dong.
That, along with the boy's hi-pitched treble-toned laughter, just
made it pulsate harder `n' faster. Kid tried to bend his legs,
but my arm kept his ankles clamped down hard. I eased up my
arm-pressure and scooted over a bit. With his knees on my right
thigh, Simon bended his legs up. Wrapped an arm round the boy's
slim ankles, holdin' those bare soles captive. Were maybe an
inch or two from my face. Felt those wigglin' toes of his
brushin' my chin.
"Hehehehee...leggo meheeheheheh...or I call the cops!"
Brat needed punishment for his messy table manners, so
my fingers raked and stroked those helpless bare boysoles of his.
Let `em twist `n' wriggle in my grasp. Let my fingertips ravage
the naked flesh of his soft soles. Let those arches flex and
those cute toes curl `n' wiggle in vain as I squirm my finger
between them all!
"AHAHAAAHHHAHEEHEHELP!..HELP!...HELP MEEHEEAHAAHAH...
HELEHEEHAAHHAAheeehaaheeheeheehahahaha!!!!"
"In me powahh!" I cackled as my fingers continued to
torture Simon's ticklish bare soles. "Not even Young Chow Fat
can save you now! Ha, ha, ahh!"
Started wedgin' my pinky between those wiggly lil'toes.
Squirmed thru each tight space, one at a time, then back again.
Did that three times on one foot before doin' to the other.
Left foot, right foot...then left again. Right again. The
fingers of my other hand were busy rakin' `n' scratchin' at them
bare boysoles.
"AAAHHHAAHAAHHAAHEEHEHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHEEHAHAHEEheheheh...
Simon...sahahahahaaaheehah...Simon sez STOP!!!"
Okay. When Simon says `stop', stop means stop, for
real. My fingers went still as I withdrew my arm, releasing the
boy's twitchin' ankles.
"Sorry," I apologized. "Gotta little carried away."
"Nah. It's OK, Dewy. I...I kinda, sorta like it
when you tickle me. Feels weird, but it's a kewl kinda weird.
Ya know?"
"Think I know what you mean, Simon."
"Uh...Dewy?"
"Yes?"
"I...I wanna tell'ya somethin'."
"Okay," I replied with a touch of apprehensive concern.
Looked at Simon, saw his wide blu-eyes lookin' at me. Within an
eyeblink, was sure I detected hesitance, agitation and even a bit
of distress flash within those cornflower blus. Kid's lips were
quiverin' slightly. Simon, who only a minute ago was all giggles
`n' mischief, now looked serious and vulnerable. Wish I could read
his thoughts, like he could always read mine. "What is it?"
"I...I..," stammered the child. Could tell now that it
was gonna be somethin' heavy. "I...I want'cha to play with my
feet."
"Huh? That's it? Simon, is there somethin' wrong?"
"Just don't tickle'em, ya know. OK? Sorta like last
time, alright?"
Knew that wasn't what was on Simon's mind. It wasn't
even on my mind, at the moment. Yet, when I felt the boy's soft
sole playfully rubbin' against my left cheek, I quickly convinced
myself that I musta imagined that the kid had somethin' more
urgent to tell me. Once again, the head on my shoulders had been
conquered by the head in my trousers.
Took hold of Simon's lil'barefeet. Felt so warm `n'
soft. No dirt, corns or callouses. They didn't even really
smell. Even the boy's neatly trimmed toenails were absolutely
clean. My pryin' fingers did find a bit of sock fuzz under his
little toe. Playfully pinched that little piggy. Rubbed and
fiddled with those wiggly digits. So supple they were. Could
bend them back without Simon makin' so much as a squawk. Clamped
my hand over five of them cuties, loved the feel of `em wigglin'
against my sweaty palm. Squeezed both those fleshy boysoles
together. Watched `em both flex as I fondled and massaged them.
Suddenly, life was just great. Here I was, a boyfoot lovin'
paederast with a pair of cute eleven year-old bare boyfeet in my
clutches. Owed it all to the cute eleven year-old little boy on
my couch.
"Ooooohh, yeah. Feeels grrreat," Simon cooed softly as
I continued molestin' the boy's feet. "Simon sez lick `em."
Strange that he could tell me my next thought before I
even thought of it.
My cock was throbbin' faster then my heart as I planted
quick wet lil'luv-kisses on the boy's soles, leavin' dabs of
saliva all over `em. Kissed all ten toes, too. One toe at a
time. Always began with the little one.
"Told'ja to lick `em, not kiss `em, Dewy."
Was takin' my time. Figured it was my turn to tease.
Wasn't too long, however, before my tongue slipped out. Licked
one foot's instep before switchin' to lick the other. Then I
moved my tongue slow `n' hard over the soft curves of both those
arches. Tongue slid itself into the snug space under those toes.
Simon's toes curled up, tryin to keep my wet slimy tongue stuck
there. Didn't work. Wiggled my tongue till those toes loosened
up. My tongue was happier than a worm between a boy's foot and a
hot sidewalk. Of course, it helped that my tongue wasn't a worm
on a hot sidewalk. Pried my squirmy tongue between each of those
wiggly piggies.
Did this as I felt the boy's legs twitchin' a bit. More
like reflexive then voluntary movements. Glanced and noticed
Simon's hips were in motion. Boy was humpin' the cushions!
Enjoyed the sight of the horny kid's lil's butt makin' quick pelvic
thrusts against the couch. Arms were spread out. Face pressed
sideways against the throw pillow, showin' off his angelic profile.
Eyes were closed. Small pink lips grimacin'. Breathin' rapid.
Heard his soft mumblin' whispers.
"Yeah...yeah...oohh...lick'em...oooh," went the boy as
his lil' immature body writhed within the throes of passion his
mind had yet to totally understand. "Ooohh...feel...feeels...
soooo...goooood...oooh...yeah..."
My tonguetip tickle-teased the tip of the boy's lil'big
toe, before I sucked it into my mouth. Other four toes curled up
while I sucked on the big one. Was gettin' carried away, again.
Didn't wait for the other four toes to uncurl as I shoved them
into my widening mouth, as well. Think I heard Simon moanin'
as I managed to fit the boy's arch inside, too. Had half the
kid's foot in my mouth when I felt it clinch up tight, curlin'
toes scratchin' the roof of my mouth. Heard Simon moan louder
before I felt his body convulse, and he let out a small girlish
cry. After a few seconds and small spasms, the boy lay still
wearin' a grin on his face. Couldn't put a price tag on the look
on that boy's face after his obvious orgasm, it's priceless.
Simon opened his blu eyes.
"You tryin' to eat my foot, Dewy?"
Hard to answer him with my mouth full. My muffled
response made the boy giggle. Kid pulled his spit-covered foot
from my mouth as he turned and repositioned himself on the couch.
"No," I said with fresh spittle by the corners of my
mouth. "Just tastin' it a little."
"How'd it taste?"
"Oh you know, just like any ole' eleven year-old boy."
"Didn't know you was a cannibal, Dewy."
"Not at all, m'boy. I enjoy tastin' boys, like some
folks taste wine. Best years for tasten' boys are always after
the ninth and just before the twelfth."
"Oh yeah?" said Simon with a raised eyebrow and a
rather devilish smirk. Imp was up to somethin', again. "Simon
sez lay on the floor, on ya back!"
Doin' as I was told, I slipped from the couch to the
carpet. There I stretched out on my back, my hands by my sides.
Simon stood up, stepped forward and stood over my prostate body.
Looked down at me wearin' that cocky smirk, hands on his hips,
legs spead, his feet by my hands.
"Simon sez don't touch my feet," the child commanded
as he lifted his foot and playfully rubbed it on my bulgin'
crotch. "What'cha got there, Dewy?"
"Oh nothin', just a concealed weapon. I'd be careful,
might go off if you keep playin' with it.
Kid just laughed as he took his foot off my tormented
manhood and walked over me. I just lay there, lookin' at the
ceiling when Simon obstructed my view with his foot. Arch and
toes were covered with melted ice cream and cool whip. Gooey
stuff dripped on my face as it oozed thru those wigglin' toes.
"Simon sez eat it!"
Was in no position to argue. Opened my mouth wide.
Boy shoved the first half of his cream-covered foot inside. I
slurped and sucked rather noisily on the foot in my mouth. Toes
kept a-wigglin' as I tried not to choke while the melted cream
went down my throat. Was breathin' thru my nose as I sucked that
boy's foot clean. Why would I argue?
Simon suddenly yanked his foot outta my suckin' mouth
with a hollow pop. He then kneeled down and leaned over me, his
face close to mine. He looked upside-down as he looked at me.
Boy started lickin' the cream off my face, like a puppy-dog.
Kid's warm lil'tongue lapped my forehead, cheeks, chin,and lips.
Cleanin' off my happy face. Felt his puckered lips suckin' the
tip of my nose. Pulled away with a wet smackin' kiss. He smiled
at me as he rose to his feet.
"Still gotta tell you somethin', Dewy," spoke the boy
as he stood over me. "I...I gotta use the bathroom."
"Really?" I replied as I sat up. "There something
wrong, Simon?"
"Nah! Canna use the one in your bedroom?"
"My bedroom? Uh, sure."
"Simon sez carry me."
Got to my feet. Wanted to know what Simon was tryin'
so hard not to tell me. Boy was lookin' at me with a sadness in
his eyes that I hadn't noticed before. Still, he smiled at me,
again. I wouldn't press it. Sure he'll tell me before he leaves.
So, I put my arm round his back as the kid wrapped his thin arms
round my neck. Swept his legs off the carpet with my arm under
his knees. At 79 pounds, the boy wasn't a heavy burden to carry.
Simon started tuggin' on my hair again, as I carried
him upstairs.
"Sure ya didn't glue these things on?"
"Where would I get extra hair to glue on?"
"Around your dick?"
"Hmmm, I'll remember that when it does fall out."
We shared a laugh as I reached the open doorway of my
bedroom. Boy then released my neck and slipped from my arms,
landing on his bare feet.
"Wait here. Gotta do this alone," he told me as he
slipped inside and shut the door before I could open my mouth.
"Gimmie five minutes."
Five minutes to take a piss? Impossible for a boy his
size. Knew he was up to somethin' else. Hadda feelin' we'd be
headin' for the bedroom the second he asked to see a movie. Just
like before. Didn't think Simon was gonna let me go all the way.
But I knew he might let me cover his bare boysoles with another
sort of cream; my freshly squeezed jizzum, hopefully. Was the
only part of his body he'd let me cum on. After all, he knew how
badly my seven inch erection needed release.
Still, while half of my brain wanted to fuck Simon, the
other half just wanted to know what he was tryin' to tell me
earlier. Feared it wasn't good news. What could it be? Has his
parents found out about our relationship, or some teacher or cop?
Does he suddenly like girls? Has he fallen for another boy...or
another man? Or maybe he's gonna tell me he's really an eighteen
year-old male dwarf workin' for the FBI. Okay, maybe not. But it
was drivin' me crazy not knowing! What the hell was he gonna tell
me?
Was gettin' so worked up, almost didn't notice that
seven minutes have passed. Now I was worried. So I knocked on
the door. No answer. Tried again.
"Knock, knock!"
"Who's there?"
"Dewy."
"Dewy who?"
"Do we mind if I come in?"
"G'head!"
Opened the door. Window blinds were closed. Only the
overhead bed-lamps were on. And in the center of my double-bed
was Simon, completely naked. Wearin' nothin' cept a naughty lil'
grin.
"Simon sez c'mere, Dewy."
Walked toward the bed. Laying flat on his tummy,
Simon's head was restin' on his folded arms under a pillow at the
foot of the bed. Those Bette Davis cornflower blu-eyes of his
seemed to sparkle with a dreamy come-hither look. My eyes
caressed the smooth contours of the little boy's blemishless nude
body. Followed the curves of his back to the tan-line across
those narrow hips leadin' to his round pert lil'bare boybutt.
Boy's naked buns were a pale pink in stark contrast to the light
amber tanned skin of the rest of his body. Bended a leg up,
showin' off the bare sole of his toe-wigglin' foot.
Kneelin' at the foot of the bed, I gently cupped Simon's
beautiful cherub face between my hands. Savoured the softness of
those tender baby-fat cheeks against my palms. Ran my fingers
over the boy's lil' ears and thru his silky golden hair. Looked
deep into those wide blu peepers of his. Within them, I saw
innocence along with touches of some unmistakable sorrow that
couldn't be hidden.
"Simon sez kiss me," the child softly spoke. I pressed
my lips against his forehead. Felt the boy's small hands on my
face, pullin' my eyes to his. "I said, KISS ME!"
Was a bit surprised as Simon pulled my face toward his.
Our lips touched. Boy's lil'tongue slipped out, tryin' to wiggle
its way into my mouth. I opened up, our faces locked as our
tongues twirled, danced and french-dueled together. Kid's mouth
tasted like cookies `n' cream mixed with lemon-lime soda. Kissed
like that for two minutes, breathin' thru our noses. Simon
withdrew his tongue, so I pulled away. Boy was smilin' again,
revealin' those pearly teeth. A gossamer thread of spit was
stretchin' between our lips. Didn't expect this. Simon never
wanted to be kissed on the lips before. Was today somethin'
special, I wondered?
"Simon sez stand up."
Did as he wished, and felt the boy's small hand rubbin'
and squeezin' the erection in my pants. A heavy sigh escaped my
mouth as I looked down to see the child pressin' his head against
my bulgin' crotch. Like a cat, boy purred softly as he nuzzled
the side of his face on the throbbin' organ beneath my trousers.
Wanted badly to unzip them.
"Mmmmm, gotcha all hard, didn't I?" murmered the boy as
he suddenly repositioned himself on the bed. Was now laying on
his back. Could see the boy's smooth undefined chest, skin
stretched tight across his visible ribs. His pink penny-sized
nipples were stiff. Boy's chest was also lightly tanned, like
his drumtight tummy. Further down, under the kid's innie belly
button, was Simon's lil's stiff boyhood. Four thumb-thick inches
of erect flesh juttin' upward from his smooth hairless pubes, with
his pale hairless undescended ballsac hangin' underneath. It was
cut, just like mine. "Or maybe these did?"
Risin' his legs, Simon planted both his feet on my
crotch. Boy's wigglin' toes fiddled around the fly of my pants
till they found my zipper, and pulled it down. Had a bit of a
hard time standin' still as Simon's foot wriggled its way inside
my trouser crotch. The kid's talented toes hooked the elastic
band of my briefs and yanked them down. Felt the cool air on my
naked seven inches as it sprung forth. Simon's warm soft soles
felt nicer on it. Teasin' blond imp giggled as his bare feet
playfully toyed with my hard cock. Felt the toes of one foot
curlin' round the swollen knobhead of my throbbin' phallux,
squeezin' out some access pre-cum, as the other foot rubbed the
length of my thick shaft. Boy's feet on my cock felt wonderful,
but it was frustrating for me to just stand there doin' nothin'.
"Ahhmm...scuse me, Simon," I said as the boy kept using
his feet to torment my dick. "Mind if I hold my dick still while
you..."
"No! Simon sez keep still," snapped the dominatin'
pre-teen. "Ya wanna touch somethin'? Touch this!"
Simon showed me what he meant by turnin' and rollin'
over on his tummy. I looked down at the boy's pale bare ass as
his toes tugged on my scrotum, yankin' my both my balls outta my
pants. Felt my cock bein' tightly clamped between those naked
boysoles. Moved my hips a bit as I reached down for the kid's
ass. My hand squeezed both of those sweet buttcheeks. My palm
stroked them while my fingers kneaded them. Those little boy
buttocks felt warm and satiny smooth to my touch. My achin' balls
were hangin' heavier. Knew my jizzum load was buildin' up within
my nutbag. How could it not? Simon's soles were milkin' my
manhood missile as my hand fondled his naked ass. Didn't wanna
toss my rocks just yet. Wanted this to go on as long as possible.
After all, how often does an adult paederast, like me, get the
opportunity to mess around sexually with a cute `n' willin'
eleven year-old boy, like Simon?
Wanted to see the boy's butthole, so my hand gently
parted the child's cheeks. Gazed at the small, pinkish, tightly
puckered rosebud...and the three inch white string hangin' outta
of it.
"What is that?" I asked as my fingers touched the
string. "A string?"
"That's Floyd, he's a white mouse. My sis's. He's
still alive."
"You're kiddin', right?"
"Nah. Sis keeps buggin' me to feed `em, so I put him
up my butt. Feels good. He's still alive. He eats anythin' so
I don't needa shit no more."
"Is this what you've been tryin' to tell me? That you
stuffed a mouse up your ass?"
"You can pull'em out, if ya want. Be careful, he
bites."
Knew it was just a string the second I saw it, but I
hadda ask anyway. No way could Simon be that sexually depraved,
yet. Far too young. Still hadda know what the kid had put in
ass. So I pulled the string slowly and gently. The boy's anal
opening started to stretch. Somethin' white was comin' out. The
hole stretched out wider as I pulled half of a white ball out of
Simon's anus. The child clenched his buttcheeks, squeezin' the
rest of the ball out.
"Uh, Simon dearest," I said as I held the string up by
my fingers, with the white ball hangin' from it. "What possessed
you to shove somethin' half the size of a golf ball up your
tushie?"
"That's my sis's, really. She uses it. Says it keeps
her horny. It works, too. See?" enthused the boy as he rolled
over and sat up, pointin' toward his stiff lil'cocklet. "It's
been like that since mornin'. Kewl, ain't it?"
Wanted to scold the boy for puttin' foreign objects up
his pre-pubescent butt. He coulda really hurt himself. But I
got it out, now. No apparent harm done. Couldn't believe the
imp's been walkin' around the whole day with a ball in his ass!
Oh well. Least it wasn't a mouse. Couldn't honestly condemn the
kid, myself. Especially since I've got an urge to shove somethin'
bigger than a golf ball up his ass.
"Ya know, Simon," I spoke as placed my hand on Simon's
immature genitalia. Fingers gently fondlin' the little boy boner.
"I know of better ways to keep your stiffie stiff."
"Yeah?" replied Simon who, judgin' by the sly `n'
naughty smirk on his face, knew exactly what I had in mind.
"Like what?"
"Glad ya asked."
I kneeled down and moved my head between the boy's
open legs. As my hands explored the smooth curves and contours
of Simon's naked shoulders and chest, I kissed the boy's tummy
and poked his belly button with my tongue. Then, I slowly ran my
wet tongue down the kid's smooth pubes till I felt his upward
juttin' dickie touch my chin. Used my tonguetip to touch the lil'
head of Simon's pricklet. Teased the tiny piss-slit by twirlin'
my tongue around it. Kissed the wet glans before I sucked the
first inch of the child's thin cocklet into my mouth. Felt
Simon's fingers running thru my thinnin' hair, as I gently sucked
in another inch.
"Simon sez suck it harder."
Did as the boy said, sucked in all four inches of his
cute lil'stiffie. My fingers fondled the kid's velvety ballsac,
toyed gently with those grape-sized testicles. Felt the child's
erect boyhood pulsin' across my tongue, as his hands moved over
my shoulders. Startin' pullin' my shirt up. I let the kid's
penis slip from my mouth as I rose to my feet. Pulled my shirt
off over my head and threw it to the floor. Let my trousers fall
to my ankles and stepped outta them, along with my shoes and
socks. Was wearin' nothin' but my birthday suit, same as Simon.
Simon took hold of my big cock and pulled me onto the
bed. I layed across it on my side next to Simon, who was rubbin'
the swollen knobhead of my cock across his lips. I took hold of
the boy's hips and pulled his body on top of me. Was on my back
as the weight of the boy's warm body pressed onto mine. Parted
his thighs and pulled the kid's bare boybutt toward my face.
Rubbed my hands all over those naked buttcheeks as the boy's grip
on my cock tightened. My tonguetip circled the reddish ring
around the child's butthole, as I felt him suckin' the pre-cum
oozin' head of my dick. Poked my squirmin' tongue against the
kid's anal opening, then ran it down the smooth peritoneum leadin'
to the boy's ballsac. Felt Simon's fist strokin' my lower shaft
from the base as he sucked the first inch and a half into his
warm suctionin' mouth. Boy's other hand fondled my hairy nutbag,
as I sucked on both of his lil'balls. No point in holdin' back
anymore, so I opened my mouth wide and sucked in the kid's dickie
and his ballsac! My tongue teased his balls as I sucked in his
little erection. Felt the tip of the boy's pricklet against the
back of my throat, while Simon's head kept bobbin' on my throbbin'
cock, pushin' a few more inches of my thick organ into his mouth.
Was strugglin' not to cum yet, as I squeezed Simon's bare boyass
and kept suckin' on the tasty pre-teen genitalia within my mouth.
"Uhhh...(COUGH)...uuuhh...God!" Simon grunted after
pullin' my dick outta his mouth. Felt the child's whole body
tremble and his slim hips spasm as I felt his small cocklet
twitch and click within my suctionin' mouth. After a few seconds,
the boy went limp from such an intense sexual release. Then he
got up. His saliva-covered sex organs slippin' from my mouth as
he rolled onto his back. Layin' beside me, Simon slipped a pillow
under his head and pulled his knees up to his shoulders. "Simon
sez fuck me!"
Never expected to hear Simon say that. We had tried it
before his eleventh birthday, but the kid got scared when he saw
my massive cock aimed toward his small lil'boyhole. Wasn't ready
to go that far, then. Not really sure he was now. He once told
me that he wasn't a virgin, without goin' into any details, but
I suspected that was a fib. Maybe that's why he put that ball up
his butt, to prepare himself for somethin' bigger.
"Listen, Simon. We don't have to..."
"Yes we do. Simon sez shuttup and fuck me!"
I rose and, on my knees, positioned myself over the boy.
As he propped his feet on my shoulders, I saw the child's lips
tighten. His wide blu-eyes were lookin' up at me, filled with
fearful anticipation.
I looked down at the kid's ass. His puckered boyhole
seemed to be lookin' back at me. Takin' hold of my dick, Simon
pulled it forward till the fleshy domehead touched his anal
opening. Rubbed the tip round the ring of his small hole,
slicking the orifice with pre-cum. I moved foreward, ever so
carefully, pressing my knob against the stretchin' hole till it
slipped inside.
"Ahhh...OWWW!"
"You okay?"
"Uhhh...yeah. I'm kewl."
Moved my hips slowly, gently pushin' an inch of my
manrod up the kid's anal tunnel. The tightness and the warmth
of the little boy's snug sphincter was overwhelming! Planted my
hands on the bed over Simon's head as I thrusted another inch
into the boy's guts. Saw the small bloodveins on my throbbin'
shaft pulsate as my third inch vanished up the imp's stretched
butthole. Pushed the next two inches of solid adult cock a
little harder than I should.
"Uhhh...augh...AAAAAHH...OOOWWWW!" the boy yelped as
five thick inches of my paedophallic python penetrated his anal
cavity. "HURTS! Take it out!"
"OK, OK! Sorry." I said as I stopped pushin' and
started to pull myself out of the boy's body. Kid's ass was
clinched tight, makin' it hard for me to withdraw my trapped
dick from it. "Just relax. I'm pullin' it out, now."
"Uhhh...why?"
"Why? You told me to take it out."
"Didn't say `Simon sez', did I?"
"But you said it hurts, right?"
"Nah...uuuhg...okay, maybe a little...but it's okay,
now...uhhmmm...really, Dewy...feels okay...just go slow...kay?"
I nodded. Simon's babyface was flushed and grimacin'
in obvious pain from the thick prick pluggin' his pre-pubescent
anus. Started thustin' my hips slow `n' easy, movin' my hard
studflesh gently within the child's insides. As I carefully
pushed my sixth inch up Simon's rectum, I noticed that the boy's
pricklet remained stiff `n' rigid. Four erect inches pointin'
up against the kid's tummy. Figured Simon may be in more pain
than he's tellin' me, but I also knew that it also made him
horny. If a little boy like Simon can stay stiff with an adult
male cock plowin' up his ass, the possibility is good that he's
gay...or that he just likes stuffin' things up his ass.
"Uuuhhh yeeeahhh...that's it, Dewy...uuhhh...ahhhhhh...
keep...uhhh...keep...fuckin'...keep fuckin' me..."
Increased the pace of my pelvic thrusts. My senses were
flooded with erotic sensations as I drilled my seven inches of
man-meat up inside the kid's hot guts. Boy's toes were curlin'
up, grippin' the tufts of hair on my head. The feel of the boy's
snug constricting rectal walls on my throbbin' cock was makin' me
dizzy. The heat of our connected bodies made the spermatozoa
cells fillin' my heavy nutbag overboil. Could almost feel `em
bubblin'. With each push of my cock inside lil'Simon, I was
pushin' myself closer to the ultimate peak of paedophallic
ecstacy. Believed the feelings were more than mutual, judging by
the way the boy was yankin' his own pricklet, with quick rhythmic
strokes.
"Uuuhhhhh....ooooooohhhh....uhhh...deeuuuhhweeeeuhhh...
fuuuuck...Simon seeez...uhhhh...fuuck me likeahh...doog...uhh..."
Almost didn't make out what the kid had just blurted
out, till he lightly pushed me off and outta him with his feet.
Was still feelin' horny as hell, as Simon repositioned himself on
the bed. On his knees, face down on the pillow, and his bare
boybutt stickin' up. Kid's hands spread his pale asscheeks apart,
exposing his tender dilated violated fuckhole to my eyes. Wasn't
thinkin' anymore. My boylust impulses had taken over. Just
aimed my dick and plunged it inside that sexy boy's lil' ass. My
hands were on Simon's narrow hips, holdin' the boy steady as I
plowed my sword of phallux deep into the child's bowels. Watched
and felt it sink deeper inside that hot ass till my pubic bush
was bumpin' the kid's rump. All my thirty-two year old seven
inches were inside Simon's eleven year-old ass, now. Was now
livin' and fuckin' within a paederastic fantasy that was now
over-fuckin'-whelmingly real! Apart, we were just a man and a
boy. But now, joined in sexual unison, we were what the rest of
the so-called civilized outside world would never understand or
accept; an intergenerational sexual organism of lust, passion,
friendship, trust, pain, and love. Maybe Simon loved me, but I
knew I loved him. Only he could have made this possible.
My body spasmed, then I knew. Reached the peak. Thru
bestial grunts, I pulled my monster cock outta Simon's hole with
a suckin' pop. Moved back and aimed my dick at the kid's naked
boysoles, jackin' myself hard `n' fast. Felt my inner essence
flowin' up my urethra with a vengeance. Suddenly, Simon turned
around, grabbed my hotrod and aimed it directly at his wide open
mouth! I howled as I saw the first jet of cum spurt across the
little boy's tongue. Simon shut his mouth and swallowed it as his
fist kept milkin' my horsedick. More fresh semen spewed out,
splattering the child's face. Oozin' globs of white spermslime
was drippin' all over the kid's nose, cheeks, lips and chin. Boy
kept squeezin' my orgasmin' prick as he sucked the last few spurts
of spunk into his mouth, some of which was dribblin' out of the
corners of his lips. I caught up with my breath, havin' shot the
last of my load. Looked down at Simon, his grinnin' cherub
babyface was totally glazed with my sticky gooey cum.
"Lord, Simon," I gasped. "Thought...thought you didn't
like sperm."
"Still feels yucky. Tastes sorta salty. Ain't that
bad. Tastes better than my Mom's split pea soup."
"Well, it's got lots of protein in it. Won't give you
cavities, like ice cream.
"Yeah. Gotta go clean up."
As I watched the naked little boy bounce off the bed
and scoot to the bathroom, I kept wondering to myself why Simon
had allowed me to go so far with him. Was he just gettin' more
sexually adventurous? It's possible. Around me, he knew he had
the freedom to do so. Yet, I felt there was somethin' else goin'
on. Heard the shower runnin' from the bathroom as I got dressed.
Just sat on the bed, waiting `n' wondering. What happens now?
Feared I wouldn't like the answer.
"Dewy," spoke Simon as he stepped out of the bathroom.
Wearin' his tank-top and tan shorts, his golden hair slightly
damp and his beautiful blu-eyes filled with sadness. He wasn't
smiling, either. "I gotta tell'ya somethin."
"Yes, I know," I said with a sigh. Bad news. "About
us?"
"Uh-huh. I'm goin' away."
"Goin'...away?"
"Dad's gotta new job, innanother state. We're leavin'
Sunday."
Felt stunned at first, then somewhat relieved since it
had nothin' to with anything I did, then incredibly hurt at the
realization that I'd certainly never see Simon again. Of course,
thruout this, overwhelming rage `n' anger at those damn parents
for separating us was buildin'. Really hated them, now.
"I hate'em!" spitted the upset child. "They're gonna
stick me inna crummy military academy! Dad wants me to be a
Marine! It sux!"
"They're just doin' what they think is best for you,"
I replied somewhat incredulously, half thinkin' of snatchin'
Simon myself, to another continent and changing both our names.
"You should tell'em how you feel."
"They don't care!" Simon shouted as he sat next to me
on the bed. His body slumped, head hangin' low, those sad eyes
downcast at the floor. "Nobody cares. I'm justa kid."
"I care, Simon," I told him as I wrapped my arm round
the boy's shoulder. "You know I care. I'd do anything for you.
You know that."
"It ain't fair. Hate this world. We're friends, ain't
we? So what if we mess around? It ain't a big fuckin' deal, is
it?"
"Afraid it is, Simon. Like you said, you're justa kid
and I'm an adult. An adult man. Your folks might not like the
idea of their son having a guy like me as your boyfriend."
"I do," Simon sniffled as he looked at me, his blu-eyes
moistening up. "You're the only grown-up I like."
Felt Simon's head leaning onto my chest, cryin' softly.
Felt like cryin' myself. I felt guilty for makin' the boy feel
so bad. It was my fault, after all. If Simon had never met me,
he'd never feel miserable about leavin' me. No way I could evade
responsibility. The trauma of our separation would scar Simon,
and I was one of the main authors of that trauma. All because of
my selfish desire to have sex with an underage male child.
We sat together on the bed in silence for who knows how
many minutes.
"Was good, wasn't it?" Simon murmured as he stood up.
"I mean...the stuff we did, wasn't it?"
"Yes. It was. Was great. Did you like it?"
"Yeah. Was fun. Not justa sex, but the other stuff,
too. Ya know?"
"I know, Simon. I know that these last two months
since I met you have been the happiest of my life."
"Me too," chimed the boy as a smile slowly spread
across his thin lips. "We're still friends, right?"
"Of course, always!"
"Ferever?"
"Yes. Forever."
The boy ran into my arms and hugged me. I wrapped my
arms round him and squeezed tight. Felt the tears formin' in my
own eyes. Didn't feel anythin' sweet about the sorrow of partin'
from Simon.
I felt the child's lips on my cheek. I turned to kiss
him back. Our lips and tongues touched, who knows how long. We
slowly drew apart. Looked into those teary blu-eyes, I feared for
the last time.
"Simon sez...goodbye, Dewy."
He pulled away from me, those lips quiverin', tears
flowin'. Slowly backed away, turned, and ran out of the bedroom.
I just sat there, still stuck with the image of Simon's tearful
face in my head. Didn't move till I heard the front door slam
shut. Ran out the bedroom, down the stairs and thru the living
room to the closed front door. He's gone.
Sat on the couch in the living room, alone. Regretted
not saying goodbye myself, to Simon. I just cried, lookin' down
at the carpet. The TV remote, empty can of 7-Up, bowl of melted
ice cream, and Simon's socks. His socks! Did Simon forget them,
I wondered as I picked them up. The only souvenirs left to remind
me of Simon; the boy who contacted me thru that webgroup, the boy
I met in that videostore two months ago, the boy who wanted his
first taste of sex with a man two decades older than him, the boy
who enriched my life by choosing me to be his `secret friend', the
boy who just walked out my front door...forever. Leavin' me with
sweet memories and his socks. Used them to wipe the tears flowin'
from my eyes.
Spent the next three hours sulkin' at the desk of my
computer, still holdin' Simon's socks. Surfed various websites
without really lookin' at them. After today's great hi's and
low's, I was stuck in a haze. Suddenly, I noticed that the main
page of a certain webgroup I belonged to was on the screen. Did
I go there unconsciously? What was I thinkin'? Shifted my gaze
from the screen to the postcard propped next to my telephone.
Picked it up, and looked at it. Just three figures standing
together between two palm trees in the Virgin Islands. The
center figure was Howard; a tall blond man three years older than
me wearin' a tacky Hawaiian-shirt, a long shaggy blond beard and
a broad smile. Howard's arms were around two boys on his opposite
sides; Rikki, who was twelve, and Freddy, who was ten. Both boys
only wearing skimpy red speedos, and toothy white grins on their
happy faces. Spoke briefly to both of them on the phone in late
March when I called Howard after first receiving his postcard.
Hadn't heard from him since we both graduated college. With
the sight of the postcard and the page of the webgroup, combined
with the feel of Simon's socks in my hands, I couldn't help but
reflect back on how all of this got started...
Howard and I went to college together, and became good
close friends. He was the first person I ever confessed my deep
deviant sexual desires to. I remember he was quite shocked...to
learn that I shared the same perversions as him! We shared quite
a few drunken evenings together, along with bitter memories of
our childhoods, and our mutual frustrations with a society where
we could never be accepted or fulfill our `unnatural desires' for
`indecent relations' with young boys. After graduation, we went
our separate ways. Didn't hear from Howard for years, until I
got that postcard in March with his phone number written on the
back. Howard told me how happy he was since he moved and met
those two boys on the postcard, his personal `housemates' he
called them. Was more interested in findin' out how Howard met
those cute boys, so I asked. That's when I first learned about
the `Knock, Knock' webgroup. An internet group for posting your
own `knock, knock' jokes...and personal ads for meeting little
boys in one's geographic area.
Skepticism was my first reaction. Surely it must be a
setup. Another FBI/police sting for gullible paedophiles. But
Howard said it was thru the webgroup that he managed to hookup
with both boys, who were lookin' for a `sugar daddy' to have fun
and hopefully live with. All three of them have been livin' under
the same roof and in the same bed for a year since they got
together. Couldn't believe it, even when he put Freddy on the
phone to tell me how much fun he and Rikki were havin' with
`Uncle Howie' and how much they both loved him...and loved suckin'
his cock! Was it possible? Could there really be a whole world
full of little boys dyin' to meet older men for fun, friendship
and fuckin'?
Howie put Rikki on the phone, who then explained to me
how this `knock, knock' webgroup worked. To join, one e-mails
a `knock, knock' joke/message to the moderator. If the message
is posted, you're automatically a member. Within the joke should
be the nickname the `respondent' shall know you by. At the bottom
of the `knock, knock' message should be an e-mail address. If
a `respondent' is interested, an e-mail is sent to the message
poster requesting the password to the poster's on-line profile.
Every member of the webgroup should have one set up. The private
profile contains the poster's nickname, physical stats, date of
birth, city and state, zip code, and a little message describing
the poster's hobbies and `interests'. If the `respondent' is
still interested, an e-mail is sent to the poster. Possibly it
might contain a phone number, and a certain time to call it.
What happens after that is up to both the poster and the
`respondent'. The posters in the group are mainly adult men, and
the `respondents' are mostly, according to Rikki, young boys like
him and Freddy.
Sounded too good to be true. How did it start and how
long has it been goin' on, I asked Howard. He didn't know for
sure. Told me he found out about it three years ago from a
drunken chance encounter with another group member. Didn't work
up the courage to try it till last year. Of the nine respondents
to his first message, he choose Rikki and Freddy. And they choose
him after having been with a few dozen other group members in the
area. They've been nothin' but a happy little family ever since.
Couldn't believe Howard's luck. Sounded like a fairy
tale. Wasn't sure if I should try it, even after Howard gave me
the group's web address before we hung up. Even if there were
boys in the world who lusted after older men who lusted after
them, were they living where I lived? An East Coast USA city?
Here? Remembered pacin' round the room, after jumpin' on the net
and finding the webgroup, for hours tryin' to decide. Think it
was an hour before dawn when I made my fateful decision. I set
up my profile, stated my interest in meeting young male friends
who were almost ten and about twelve...who might enjoy havin'
their feet tickled. Then I wrote my `knock, knock' message.
Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Dewy.
Dewy who?
Do we wanna get together and have some fun?
Couldn't believe I had dreamed up that nickname, and
written such a cornball message around it. Yet I submitted it
with my personal e-mail address at the bottom.
The next day I saw my message posted in the message
folder. I was now one of the over fifteen-thousand members of
this `knock, knock' webgroup. I went to work and, when I got
home that evening, I checked my e-mail. It had seven messages
requesting my password! I was excited and nervous. Could there
really be boys in my area who want to get together with me to have
fun...and let me tickle their feet, too? I sent all seven my
password that evening.
The next morning, I checked my e-mail to find five
messages containing five phone numbers and a certain time in the
day to call them. The first number I called was a disconnected
number, according to the recorded voice. So I just shrugged and
went to work. But during my lunchbreak, I called the second
number. I nearly jumped when I heard what sounded like the voice
of a little boy talkin' to me from the other end. At last! A
real boy who wanted to meet me! After I proved to him who I was
and answered all his questions, we set up a time and place for us
to meet; the park. Told him what I'd wear and how much I looked
forward to meeting him. He did, however, sound a little nervous,
as I now recall. When that day arrived, I arrived early at the
park where he told me to wait for him. I waited for ninety long
minutes, sittin' on a park bench. My heart-rate speeded up
everytime a young boy...or a uniformed cop passed by. After
ninety minutes of that, I just sighed and went home.
Discouraged but not undaunted, I called the third phone
number. Another young voice askin' me questions and givin' me a
time and place to meet. A McDonald's, this time. So, I arrived
the next day at the time and place requested...and, to my surprise,
so did he.
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"Ben"
"Ben who?"
"Been wonderin' if I should show up."
But he did show up. Ben, a twelve year-old curly
haired redhead with freckles all over his Howdy-Doody face. Was
even more nervous about meetin' me there than I was. Was scared
somebody from his neighborhood would recognize him. I bought him
a double-quarter pounder with fries and a shake. He devoured
them all in less than three minutes. After some clumsy small
talk, Ben asked me if I was convicted sex criminal. After tellin'
him no, he asked me other questions about why I liked boys and if
I would try to rape or molest him if I were alone with him.
Seemed more into findin' out what type of guy would find boys
like him attractive and why. Maybe he was writing a term paper or
somethin', but he never stopped fidgetin' and lookin' around.
When I tried to ask him a few questions, he got really agitated
and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He never came back.
Strike one for me, I figured.
Next day, I called the fourth number. The voice that
answered was alto-deep, but still a boyish one. Same Q and A as
the previous two calls. Time and place was a matinee show at a
movie theater. Arrived at the ticket booth ten minutes before
the show was gonna start.
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"Ken."
"Ken who?"
"Can'ya buy me a ticket?"
Ken was a 5'3" tall thirteen or fourteen year-old with
a shaved head and braces on his crooked teeth. Spoke with a
raspy crackin' voice. Fraid I can't say I found him rather
attractive. He had a slim lanky frame, however. Bought two
tickets to an "R" rated movie he wanted to see, a sex thriller
about psychopathic lesbians. After buyin' popcorn and drinks, we
got seated in the middle section of the back row. We really
didn't talk much. Think Ken just wanted me to get him into a
movie his parents wouldn't let him see. There were only two
other people in the theater, at the front. Ken just sat back,
chewed his popcorn, sipped his Coke and watched the flick as I
sat next to him. About two reels into the movie, the big sex
scene between the female leads started. All glossy sofecore
stuff. Discreet nudity with heavy breathin' and moanin'. That's
when I felt Ken's hand squeezin' my thigh. Turned and looked at
him. He motioned his eyes down to his crotch, his six inch dick
was stickin' up from his open jeans. Felt the boy's hand slip
round my neck, pullin' my head toward his erection. What could I
do? Say no? I sucked the teen's cock till he cummed. Then he
just zipped up, thanked me and took off, fast. Guess he waited
till the sex scene so he'd get hard and have me blow him during it
so nobody would hear him moan when he shot his load down my
throat. Strike two, I supposed. Least I got HIM off, anyway.
Doubted we'd meet again.
Was gettin' pretty frustrated at this point. Almost didn't call
the fifth and final number. But I did. The voice that answered the phone
sounded girlishly young. Thought it coulda been a little girl...or a
female cop. It was a boy named Simon. Didn't know it at the time. But
when I first saw him in the videostore, I knew I'd finally hit a home run.
I searched for gold, and found it in a golden-haired ten year-old boy with
Bette Davis eyes.
And two months later, he had gone.
And here I am now, right back where I started.
I was still a member, and could repost the same ole message I
wrote before. It would be deleted after a week, like all the messages
posted before. Should I try my luck, again? Would I find someone else?
Another boy I could like, lust and love? And would he like me? And even
if we did hit it off, how long would it last? Would his parents move away,
also? Would they find out and have me castrated and incarcerated? Would
they suddenly die in a car crash, leavin' the boy free to move in with me
and live happily ever after? Nonsense, I knew. I'd certainly never have
another relationship with a boy, like the one I'd had with Simon.
But I wouldn't stop tryin' to find one, however.
The hell with it! Life's too short, I thought. No reason to
stop tryin' to fill mine with as many boys as I could find. So I reposted
the same silly `knock, knock' message with my e-mail address at the bottom.
If Howard could get two boys with one message, so could I!
Was feelin' dead tired. It's been a wild day. Needed some
sleep. Just gonna check my e-mail before I turned in. Only one message in
my mailbox. Wait a minute! I knew that address! It was the same one who
sent me that phone number, tellin' me to meet him in the park! Had to
check this one out.
Dear Dewy. I told u to meet me in the park. Sorry I didn't show up.
Somethin came up and I couldn't make it. Really sorry. Still would like
to meet u. Gimmie a call between 3PM & 6:30PM, Monday thru Friday. Please
call, wanna meet u so bad. 4Real!
Checked my watch. It said, 6:26PM. Picked up my phone and
button-dialed the number at the bottom of the e-mail message. Heard the
phone ring three times before someone picked up.
"Hello?" spoke the voice. It was him. Same pre-teen,
treble-toned voice. Same boy who asked me to meet him in the park, and
never showed up. "Hello, someone there?"
"Knock, knock."
"Who...who's there?"
"Dewy."
"Dewy who?"
"Do we still wanna get together and have some fun?"
"Where did I tell'ya to meet me?"
"In the park. I was there. You weren't, were you?"
"N...no. Sorry," peeped the boy's voice. It still had that tone
of uncertainty within it. "I'm really sorry. Look, you still wanna meet
me?"
"Yes."
"You know the zoo?"
"Yes."
"Uuuummmm, how bout tomorrow?"
"That's fine."
"Uh, could'ja be there by 2:30?"
"Where?"
"By the Giraffes. That OK?"
"Yes, by 2:30. Right?"
"Yeah. Whatta gonna wear?
"White long-sleeve shirt, long tan pants and brown shoes. Just
look for a white guy with short dark-brown hair."
"Yeah, OK," the boy answered as I suddenly the voice of a woman
in the backgroud. Sounded like she was callin' to the boy. "Uhumm, gotta
go. See'ya tomorrow. OK?...(CLICK)!"
So, I said to myself. I got somethin' to look forward to, after
all. Tomorrow. Hoped he would show up. Hoped that when he did, he'd be
someone worth waitin' for.
After turnin' off the computer, I turned in. Stripped my tired
body bare. Slipped under my bedsheets and switched the lights off. Buried
my head under a pillow before I realized that I was still holdin' on to
Simon's socks.
Funny, I thought as I drifted into sleep, how only hours ago, me and Simon
were fuckin' on the same bed I'm in now. The same bed where Simon and I
had shared a forbidden moment in time that would part of our memories as
long as we both lived. I would cherish it along with the other memories of
Simon these past two months. I could only hope that Simon would remember
me and our time together with fondness and love...especially if he someday
does get elected president!
[END OF CHAPTER ONE]
skiddo12@yahoo.com
Flame me if you're dyin' to be ignored!