Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2009 13:07:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: azkid61@gmail.com
Subject: My Marty - Chapter 6

This is all fiction!!! This is a figment of your imagination . . . and
mine! And no one was hurt or maimed in the writing of this story. [Well,
maybe the editor a bit!]

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional gay story depicting a homosexual
relationship between a young man and a boy. It is intended for adult
readers only. All characters are fictional and in no way related to any
person or persons living or deceased. Any such perceived similarity is
purely coincidental.

IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE TO BE READING THIS STORY OR YOU DO NOT APPROVE
OF SUCH MATERIAL, PLEASE LEAVE.

This work is copyrighted (c) by the author and it may not be reproduced or
copied in any form without the specific written consent of the author. It
is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission
guidelines but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without
the written consent of the author.

             *     *     *

This is the first time for me at writing a story of any kind.

I have to thank Nifty for letting me find such an amazing site. That has
made me feel like I'm not alone in this world of dreams, while not accepted
by closed-minded people.

Love does not come in a prepackaged form, defined by a few over religious
groups, or others, too blind to see the true meaning of the word "LOVE."

The one that has been the most helpful in my writing trials, and has been a
great inspiration to me in all my endeavors has been "Matthew Templar", my
editor. Thank you, Matthew.

This chapter is dedicated to a very special man that has seen me through
some hard times with his beautiful stores he has written.  Caleb
Wilson. His stories can be found on "Johnnie Proudly Presents. Under the
name Tristam Dejong.  "at www.boylinks.net. His story, "C'est la vie" is my
favorite. If you like my style of writing you will love his. Thanks,
Caleb. You are a true friend and you have a special place in my heart.


Please email me at www.azkid61@yahoo.com I love to see what you think of my
"attempt" at writing. All emails will be answered (in the order they were
received.) Sound familiar?


             My Marty

             Chapter 6

His lips felt like soft rose pedals against mine. His touch was as soft as
silk. I lifted him off the floor and held onto him for dear life.

I gently set him back down.

And without missing a beat, he said, "Wow! Mom never kissed like that,"
with a big grin on his face.

I lost it and started laughing like mad. He realized what he had just said,
and busted up too. At that point, I was on such a high from being with
Marty that I never wanted to come down from it.

We finally got under control and out of the shower. I dried him off, going
gently down his chest with the towel; my eyes drinking in his flesh. His
dime size nipples were hard as rocks. As I went down to his hips I just
marveled at the wonders that bestowed him to me for a time.

He was so perfect, so beautiful. He had just a hint of hair above his
boyhood, golden in color, shining like the first rays of the morning
sun. His legs were long and well built. The same color hairs there were
shining in the morning light. His feet were absolutely perfect. I never
thought of feet as being beautiful, but Marty's were. He pulled the towel
out of my hands and started drying me off. His touch was soft and caring,
sending waves of passion for him through my soul. . I just wondered how
much more I could stand before I lost all control of my senses for this
boy.

With the drying of each other done, the look he was giving me sent waves of
love through my heart.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking, what if this is all a dream; and if it is, I
don't ever want to wake up," he said.

I reached out and pulled him into me.

"Marty, this is no dream. I've pinched myself five times, thinking the same
thing. I've never felt like this before. I could eat you up and never need
to eat again." Looking down on his face, he was just beaming with joy. We
got dressed without taking our eyes off each other.

We started for the kitchen. I asked him if he wanted to go out to eat. He
looked at me and, with a look of pure caring in his eyes, he asked,

"Can we eat here? I really want to just be with you."

"Okay," I said. "What would you like? I love to cook. If I don't have it,
I'll get it."

He scrunched up his nose; the thoughtful look he gives me so often and so
damn cute.

"Do you have eggs and bacon?" he asked.

"Yes, I do. Do you want pancakes with it?" I asked.

"Sure, if you're going to eat with me," he said.

"Of course, I am. Where else would I go?" I said, wondering what he meant
by that. "Why did you ask that?"

The shine from his face dimmed a bit as he looked at his feet. "Well you
know my mom works nights and Dad doesn't get up till afternoon sometimes,
so it's just me and Chris and we can't use the stove. So we just have
cereal most days. Mom used to cook, but since Dad started drinking again
he's always mad about things."

My heart just sank at his words.

"Well, kiddo, let's see what we can do about some grub, okay?" I
asked. "Want to help?"

"Can I?" he asked, with that grin of his back. That took the sad face from
him.

"First, we need to feed Syliss," I said. So, with a short whistle, he came
running full speed into the kitchen, wagging his nub, looking at me, then
Marty. I gave Marty the can of dog food, showed him the can opener, and we
went to work on the can.

He poured the can of dog food into the dog's bowl and started to pet Syliss
on his back. I almost tried to stop Marty from doing this because that damn
dog does not let me touch him at all when he's eating. But my eyes could
not believe what I was seeing: Marty just stroking his back. And Syliss
just going about his eating. Shit, he would have growled at me. He's never
bit me, but that's his time, I figure.

I went on making breakfast as Marty talked about his life. I found out his
birthday was only two months away. August 15th 1969 was the date. He's
going to be 12 years old. I'm going to make that day the most special day
for my Marty. He told me he thinks he was born in Oklahoma, but he wasn't
sure.

We soon sat down to eat, after making a mess of my kitchen. I was across
from Marty; I had to see that beautiful face of his. You can tell a lot
about a person from the expressions on their face. And he wore his
proudly. He went on about how his mom didn't seem to like him much. He
didn't know why, but that he was used to the insults that she would throw
his way at times.

He said he can remember a lady with blond hair, when he was much younger,
pushing him on a swing set. It seemed to mean a lot to him. His face had
that look of intense thought on it, as if not sure it was a dream or
not. He talked between shovels of food in his mouth. I was just mesmerized
at the intense thought he was in, telling me his life's story.

He had finished stuffing his face quite some time ago, but he was so happy
to have some one to listen to his thoughts and stories. I was glued to his
every word with an occasional "ah ha" here and there, to keep him going. He
talked for hours before I realized how late in the day it was getting.

I started to get a little concerned that we had not heard from Marty's
parents yet. I'd given Ed my phone number before we left. Cell phones were
not something in everybody's hands in the 80's.

So, with Marty helping me, we cleaned up the mess from breakfast, and went
into the living room to get Marty's things together. I could see a big
change in Marty's mood, as he packed his bag. I knew what it was that
bothered him. After listening to him tell me all about his life at home, I
was sure it was not a good one. Not that anybody was physical with him,
just not there for him.

That can be worse on a boy sometimes; then, if they were physical, at least
you know what to expect with that. But just being ignored or have insults
thrown at you is just as bad. I stopped and looked at him; he noticed me
looking at him and stopped packing.

"Hey, kiddo, you okay?" I asked.

"Wade, do I have to leave? I don't want to go home right now. In fact, I
don't ever want to go home," he said. "I want to stay here forever. I won't
be a bother and I'll do whatever you tell me to do. They don't want me. I
know they don't."

My heart just sank to my stomach at his words, and the tears started to
flow from his eyes, down his cheeks. I moved over to him in two steps,
wrapping my arms around him, burying his head in my chest, trying to take
the pain away from him. I held onto him as his sobs just spilled out onto
my chest.

"Oh, Bo' bear, it can't be that bad, is it?" I asked, stroking his hair.

"Yes it is. They hate me! And I don't know why."

His sobs were growing with each word out of his mouth. All I could do was
hold him, keeping out the hurt he was trying so hard to hide from and make
him feel me holding him, to let him know I was there to make it all better.

"Look, Marty, I will do whatever it takes to help you. You have to know
that I will not let anybody or thing hurt you ever again. Do you trust me?"
I asked.

"Y-yes, I do."

"Then let me see what's going on at your house. How do you know they don't
want you around?" I asked. "Is it something your dad has said to you?"

"N-no. It-it's what my mom says to me, and it doesn't make any sense," he
said.

"What does not make sense?" I said.

"She says they shoulda never taken me in and I've never known what that
meant."

"Well, Marty, I can find out what she's talking about if you want me
to. Hey! Let's get going to your house, and if you can stay the rest of the
weekend. If you want," I said.

His face lit up like a 1,000 watt light bulb. I dried the tears from his
face, kissing him lightly on top of his head, and we got his things and
started out the door. He seemed to be a little happier but still had a sad
look on his face, so I asked him if he wanted to go camping tonight, if his
parents did not mind.

That sent him into a hugging fit, with me being the huggee. That's the way
I like him to be. So out to my truck and down the road we went.

As soon as he got in the passenger seat and closed the door, before I even
had the key in the ignition, he was sliding across the seat next to
me. With the grin I so loved to see on his face, we were off.

"What if my dad says no, Wade?" he said.

"Hey, buddy, don't think like that. Why would he say no? Besides,I'll give
him my charming smile and my puppy dog look. That will get him," I said,
half laughing.

We got to Marty's apartments. As we pulled in, Marty said he didn't see his
dad's car. He started to get that sad look on his face. I put my arm around
him and pulled him into me.

"Hey, Marty, maybe they're at the store. Your mom's probably home," I
said. That seemed to help his mood.

We got out of the truck and started walking towards his apartment when that
familiar hand found mine, and the sparks from his touch found my heart
again. I will never get tired of his touch; it warms my heart to know it's
important to him to feel me. As we got to the door, we found it locked.

"Do you have a key, Marty?" I asked.

"I think I do, in my bag," he said. He pulled a small key ring from a
pocket on his bag. He opened the door, and we went inside. He went through
all the rooms to find the apartment empty. I watched as Marty went from
room to room and the look on his face changed each time he came out of a
room. He stopped at the kitchen table, and picked up a note there, with a
20 dollar bill on it.

The look on his face changed to a shocked look. He turned to me holding the
note out. As I looked in his eyes, I could see the tears start to build.


End of chapter 6.

Ok, you will need to wait to see what the note says just like I do.

Let me know what you like about the story. I love to hear from you all. It
keeps me going.

Email me at. Azkid61@yahoo.com
Thanks for letting me share.