Date: Fri, 27 Feb 2015 16:27:20 -0500 From: kyle garter <livinglife19@hotmail.com> Subject: Life's New Phase +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ All the usual disclaimers apply: +This is my second story. It is my work and you may not reproduce it without my permission. +This story is a work of fiction. If you think it is real, you have a very active imagination. +Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do so. +Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and non-adults are represented. Do not read further if this offends you. +Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story. +Please consider a financial donation to Nifty. If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at: livinglife19@hotmail.com +Flames will be ignored. +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ Background: Retirement. What a shitty word. It made me seem really old, yet at 57 years old I felt as strong as an ox. To clarify, it was more of an opportunity than a straight up retirement. I had worked for an automotive parts plant in Tucson, Arizona for 30 years while acting as manager for the past eight years. In the past year, the company's corporate office had started offering buyouts to senior management. I resisted the buyouts for months, but the offers got sweeter and I finally decided to accept the final offer and retire. The timing of the buyout was good as well. My wife of 27 years lost a battle with breast cancer two years earlier. Our two children had moved out and were working on their own lives after college. So, I was all alone with nothing keeping me in town other than my career. Retirement would give me the chance to travel and see my kids plus extended family and friends. Oh, I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. I'm Grant Baldwin, a 57 year old widow. I haven't dated since my wife's death although I have had offers. It just seems like dating would be a big step that I was still not ready to take. Physically, I am in good shape. I work out, run occasionally, and watch what I eat. At six foot and 174 pounds, everything is proportionate. I keep my hair trimmed short -- thankful that I still have it. All in all, I'm a nice looking guy. Sex? Ha. I haven't slept with anyone since my wife died. I was loyal to her and always was. I was old enough to know a good thing when I found it. Nowadays, I jerk off occasionally. I'm just not that horny without my life partner by my side. Gosh, now I sound old and boring. I guess I just needed someone to reignite my passion.... Chapter 1: Discovery The retirement luncheon was nice. It made me feel weird. I had spent about ten hours daily with these people (or their predecessors) for the past thirty years. But come Monday, they would go on with their work lives and I would try to figure out what to do with my life. After lunch, I packed up the rest of my things and left at 3:30 pm. I went home and got my home office in order before going for a swim. Living fifteen miles outside of town, I had a bit of land and a nice-sized private pool. I swam nude since nobody was around -- my nearest neighbors were literally miles away. I love the feeling of my entire body being kissed by the water. It had been a scorcher of a day, and the cool water felt refreshing. I kept telling myself that tonight was like any Friday night, but in the back of my mind, I kept wondering what the hell I would do all day Monday...and Tuesday...and beyond. I had a peaceful evening and was relaxing with Sports Center at 9:30 pm when the phone rang. It was Garcia, the night watchman at the plant. They had a trespasser and Garcia didn't realize that I had retired. I told him that it was fine and that I would come down to the plant. I threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and drove down to the plant. My code still worked on the front gate; I wasn't officially excommunicated quite yet. I drove to the back of Building 21 where Garcia had the trespasser cornered. "Evening boss, back corner near the old assembler" Garcia said as he handed me the flashlight. I ran the beam over the area and nearly missed the small figure crouched in the corner. It was a child. Turning to Garcia I asked, "Is he the only one? No parents?" Garcia told me that the boy was the only one he had spotted. I knew the story. The boy had crossed the border from Mexico illegally. We had about ten trespassers a year, and they were always border crossers attempting to hide. It was a sad situation, especially considering the deteriorating conditions in Mexico. I told Baldwin that I would take the boy to immigration even though I knew full well that he would be returned to Mexico. We called to the boy, but he wouldn't come to us. Understandable. Garcia went and got the boy and bound the boy's hands with plastic wrist ties. I doubted the boy needed them, but I had seen my share of runners over the years. The wrist ties made them easier to catch. The boy resisted as Garcia brought him out into the light. Looking at him, I estimated that the boy was 9 or 10 years old. He was also filthy. I wondered about his journey and the hardships he had encountered, but I quickly moved my thoughts on as I didn't want to think about something so sad. No bags, no belongings. Garcia handed the boy off to me and told me, "later boss." "I'm not your boss anymore," I thought as I walked the boy to my car and Garcia went off to continue his rounds. We got to the side of my car when a smallish voice said, "Mister, I gotta pee." His English was good which caught me off guard. Most of the border crossers only spoke Spanish. Looking back, I saw Garcia was gone. Garcia had the extra wrist ties meaning that I couldn't replace the ties if I cut the current ones off of the boy. "Okay son, I'll help you out," I said as I reached for his shorts. No zipper. Luckily, there were no security cameras back here and it was fairly dark. I lowered the boy's shorts to his ankles. No underwear. Taking his small penis in hand, I peeled back his foreskin and he let loose a thunderous stream of piss. Damn, he did have to piss. My mind drifted back to the last time I had held a boy's penis in my hand. It had been nearly fifty years ago now. His name was Dale and he was my best friend at the time. We were probably the same age as this boy currently is back at that time. I was staying overnight at Dale's house for a sleepover. It was time for bed and we had stripped down to our tighty whities when Dale said he wanted to show me something. I know that I was clueless about anything sexual at that point. I had no idea that my penis could be used for anything beyond taking a leak. Dale pulled his briefs off and showed me his proud little boy hardon. I looked at it with interest. "Do you rub yours and feel good?," Dale asked as I continued to stare at his boner. I shook my head "no" as Dale started an awkward stroking of his little boy cock. I was mesmerized as I watched him handle his little stiffie. "Take your underwear off, Grant," Dale said as he continued rubbing on his little hardon. I removed my underwear and Dale's free hand quickly grabbed on to my little cock. In no time at all, I was hard and it did feel damn good. Dale asked if I wanted to try on him, and I reached over and took his dick in hand. His dick was hot and suddenly my stomach felt like a million butterflies were flying around inside of me. I didn't understand everything that was happening, but I knew it felt good. We had only played with each other's cocks for a few minutes before Dale's dad barged into the room and caught us red-handed,or dick-handed I suppose. My hand was on Dale's dick and his hand was on my dick. Dale's dad told us that we would burn in hell for touching each other. He then made Dale leave the room and sleep on the couch. I lay there wondering about everything that had happened. I rubbed my own stiffie but it didn't feel the same as when Dale had done it. I never got invited to sleepover again, and Dale and I drifted apart and moved on to other friends. I'm sure Dale's dad had something to do with the dissolution of our friendship. That had been my one and only interaction with another male. As a teen, I discovered masturbation and then girls. I'd never done anything else with another guy, young or old. I had sometimes fantasized about it over the years, but I never acted on it. As my thoughts returned to the present situation, I looked down at the small penis in my hand. There was enough light to see it, so I took in the sight of the perfectly formed little boy cock as it shot forth a hot stream of urine. Shortly thereafter, the piss stream finally slowed to a trickle and then stopped. I gave his cocklet a few shakes to get the last piss drops off. Then I crouched and raised his shorts back up to his waist. "Thank you mister," the boy said with a slight grin. I smiled back. The boy was cute. Chapter 2: Decision Point I got him into the passenger seat and buckled him in. As I pulled out of the plant for the last time, the boy spoke. "My parents left me on the trip from Mexico. I am all alone now. What will I do if they send me back?" I told him that I didn't know as I glanced over and noticed that he really was a cute kid despite all of the dirt. "Maybe I could come home with you for just one night," the boy said while flashing me a big smile. "That's against company policy," I said as simultaneously thinking "not that I work there anymore." "Please, please, please," the boy begged. "I have no one in Mexico and I can't go back. Can I stay with you for just one night?" Tears were streaming down his cheeks taking the dirt with them as they flowed. Again, I responded, "that is not a good idea." But, then I thought of his missing parents and my dead wife. I thought how he was now an orphan, and how I was now a loner. Neither of us had anyone. And then I thought about his small penis. I didn't want to, but I did. And, I thought about Dale. I thought about the fun we started having together and I wondered about how things would have worked out if we hadn't been caught by his father. Fantasies raced through my mind as the boy silently wept in the seat next to me. Other than Garcia, no one knew that I had the boy. And, there was no reason for Garcia to think I would take the boy anywhere else besides immigration. I really could take the boy home and nobody would have a clue. I could provide him a safe environment for the night; I could save him from the uncertain future upon his repatriation to Mexico. Perhaps I could relive certain aspects of my own youthful yearnings... As I got to the interstate, I had a decision to make -- turn west towards town and turn the boy in or turn east and head further from town towards my home. "What is one night?," I thought as I pulled onto I-10 heading east towards Benson. The boy had no idea that his repatriation had been put on hold for another day until I pulled into the solitary, gravel road that lead to my house. "One night," I said as we pulled up to the house. The boy's eyes cleared and a bright smile overtook his face. "Thank you so much!", exclaimed the boy as I brought the car to a stop in the still Arizona night. I unbuckled his seatbelt and helped him out of the car. His hands were still bound as we entered the front door. "What is your name?," I asked as we moved through the front foyer. He responded, "Albie." I explained to him that I had a top of the line security system as I set the alarm after entering the house. "If you leave and try to run, the alarm will sound and I will call the police," I stated after setting the system. Albie nodded his head. We headed to the wooden kitchen table and chairs where I sat Albie down and asked for his story. He explained that he was raised in an affluent neighborhood in Mexico and had attended bilingual schools. Thus, his English was better than some of the local American kids I knew. Unfortunately, drug cartels were taking over his city, and the family was forced to flee for their safety. Albie's parents had deserted him on the rugged trip from Mexico. After crossing the border, the boy had awoken one morning to find them gone. He had no idea where they were now. Albie also explained that he had no extended family back in Mexico that he knew about. He truly was a loner now. As he spoke, I took in his features. His hair was dark, but messy. His brown eyes were captivating and his button nose was cute. His teeth looked flawless, and I wondered about how much of the family's money had been spent on quality dental work. The lips were nothing short of fantastic -- full, succulent, kissable. How had they not gotten chapped in the midday desert sun? Perhaps the family only traveled at night. I was taking in his beauty when I decided it was time to get the boy cleaned up. After a second warning about my security system, I walked the bound boy back towards my master bathroom. I had a large jacuzzi tub and a separate glassed-in shower area. I sort of expected some reaction to a "fancy" American house, but I didn't get any from the boy. How affluent was his family in Mexico? My house wasn't grandiose, but it was definitely a nice place. I leaned over and started the water in the jacuzzi tub. Turning back to the boy, I told him that he really needed to wash up, and that a long, hot bath would do him a world of good. Looking at his grimy clothes, I knew there was no need to keep them. Bending over, I lowered his shorts for the second time that night, and the light of the bathroom displayed a beautiful, slim uncut penis and a tight ballsack. As I had suspected, the boy was hairless and prepubescent. Standing up, I looked the boy in his eyes and explained that I would get him new clothes as I subtly tossed his shorts into the trashcan. His eyes didn't register fear or distrust -- he simply nodded his head "yes" while I reached to his neckline, grasped the filthy shirt, and ripped it down the middle. After that, the shirt was hanging on him like a vest, and I couldn't get it off of him with his hands bound behind his back. I spun him around and ripped the back half of the shirt in the same manner -- both halves went directly into the trashcan. Looking down at the tight boy butt made my mind real. I had never had anal sex with anyone, but suddenly thoughts of being inside that tight, little ass consumed me. I left him facing away from me as I took in the glory of his miniature bubble butt. I wondered if hours of soccer had carved that tiny, rock-hard ass. My cock was responding to the view as I felt it starting to swell even more in my loose shorts. The boy remained docile and facing away from me. He wasn't very tall, and the top of his head was slightly lower than my chest. Leaning down to his level, I whispered in his ear, "I am going to remove the wrist ties -- no running, okay?" He responded with a, "Yes sir." It surprised me and further stimulated me. Reaching into the bathroom drawer, I found and removed a pair of scissors. Somewhat reluctantly, I cut the ties and waited for a reaction. There was none, the boy remained motionless. Checking to see that my semi-hardon was not too visible, I walked around Albie and turned the water off. The tub was nearly full. Leaning down, I put my hand in to check the water temperature. Once again, I was level with the small boycock. I looked at it as I swirled my hand in the water. "Get in," I said. The boy gingerly raised his leg over the side of the tub -- there was no dangle to the boysack as it clung tightly to his body. He lifted the other leg and slowly lowered his body into the warm water. He sat in the rather deep water of the jacuzzi tub -- the water level was up to his nipples. I had let the water run longer than expected. Taking charge, I told the boy to lean backwards and wet his hair. I then took the shampoo bottle from the side from the side of the tub and hit my knees by the side of the tub. I lathered Albie's hair as he closed his eyes tightly. "Stand up," I said rather brusquely. It was not like me to be so forceful outside of the workplace. What was happening to me? The boy stood and I looked at his shimmering body as he held his eyes tightly shut due to the shampoo in his hair. The legs and buttocks were firm from some type of exercise program. The upper body was thin and not as developed muscularly. The tiny brown nipples each had a little bullet nub on the tips of them. The ribs poked through the skin somewhat, but the boy was not significantly malnourished. There was not a hair to be seen anywhere on the body. His form was beautiful. The innie bellybutton was perfectly proportioned to his tiny, flat stomach. His small boy cock and balls were both hanging lower thanks to the effects of the warm water. With hungry eyes, I noted the uncut cock to be between two and three inches in length. The balls were probably the size of small marbles, and the small sack had lowered ever so slightly from his pelvic area. Grabbing a bar of soap, I stood up and started to lather the boy's shoulders and neck. He remained compliant and never questioned my manhandling of him. My cock was now obscenely tenting my shorts, but I did not care as the boy could not see me. "Lift your arms up," I instructed as I lathered the sweet, hairless armpits. The boy giggled as I cleaned his pits and hit ticklish spots. My penis throbbed. The chest, stomach, and back were all scrubbed shortly thereafter as I worked down the perfectly-proportioned torso -- adult hands cleaning the flawless skin of youth. I took my time and felt every inch of his torso. My mind went back to times that I had bathed with my own son. I had always enjoyed cleaning him -- washing his hair and his small body. Of course, our times together in the shower had ended when my son John was much younger than Albie. Still, I wondered if I had ever found any type of sexual satisfaction in the cleansing process of John like I was experiencing now. Bringing my thoughts back to reality, I realized that my hands had reached the promised land. I was at Albie's waist. Albie's was anticipating this as much as I was, and his little cocklet was sticking straight out. It probably measured a little over three inches, and the two little boy balls and sack had pulled up tight to his body once more. His cock was truly a beautiful sight, and I wondered how I had missed out on so many years of male pleasures. I lathered up my hand and prepared to wash my boy. Yes, I now realized that he was my boy. My boy to enjoy as I wanted. My boy that nobody knew a thing about. My boy to satisfy and teach. My boy to love and make love to whenever I wanted. My lecherous thoughts started to go into overdrive. To be continued? Let me know what you think? My email address is livinglife19@hotmail.com. Flames will be ignored.