Date: Sun, 9 Jan 2011 01:32:43 +1030
From: James Smith <d-i-t-m@hotmail.com>
Subject: Opening a Window ? Chapter 1 - Connection

Opening a Window – Chapter 1: Connection

By James Smith

***

Quick Intro/disclaimer

This story contains sexual scenes between preteen/teen boy/s and a
man/men. If this subject is offensive or off putting to you, read no
further. Only read if you are of legal age as stated in your local
government.

I can be contacted at: d-i-t-m@hotmail.com. Please use the subject line
"Re: Nifty", for easier e-mail filtering.

Me, I live in South Australia and I am 24. I don't really like to label
myself as gay/bi/straight; I'm just completely open minded.

This story is mine, copyright of mine. Not to be reproduced without my sole
permission. So far only Nifty has received this story from me, so therefore
should be the only place it can be found. Respect copyright please.

End Intro  :)

***

"Opening a Window – Chapter 1: Connection"

Fuck I love Friday nights.

Having just moved here from my home state I was completely alone
here. Sure, at first, it was lonely spending every weekend alone after
leaving my involved social life, but I have learned to appreciate the
solitude. Especially after all the drama back home, I couldn't handle it
anymore, so much hostility and dishonesty. It's not what I thought my life
should be like, I wanted to go somewhere where I could forge new
relationships that I wanted, needed. Not just perpetuate relationships that
I simply grew up with and tolerated, this was my new start, I could do
anything I wanted, I just had to find the right people to surround myself
with.

It's a Friday night now, as much as I like my new co-workers, I don't feel
comfortable enough yet to invite myself to their coveted after work drinks,
maybe soon. I picked up dinner after work and ate it while I caught up on
my television shows for the week. Having done that, naturally I
procrastinated on the internet, checking emails and my RSS feeds, typical
daily stuff. Of course this progressed to checking my extra email for my
weekly porn.

As usual it was full. I consider myself a straight man, but I absolutely
love watching men getting off on each other. Real men, covered in hair,
rough as guts, the kind of men you wouldn't expect to see in these kind of
videos. I know it seems strange for a straight man to enjoy this, and I can
appreciate a hot, young, slutty woman degrading herself, but I always feel
guilty seeing women in this regard.

I stroked my nine inch cock through my boxers as I viewed the raw sexuality
on my screen. I pulled it out of the top of my underwear and stroked the
skin up and down. These videos always get me going and I can never
concentrate on anything until I get the job done.

I needed to get more comfortable, there is an art to cumming and I couldn't
enjoy it as well restricted by a computer chair. With the images of bears
and cubs with drenched, cum covered bodies in my mind, I walked across to
my bedroom. I removed my boxers and lat out on the bed completely naked. I
looked down my hairy body and watched my cock jump as I flexed it. I spread
my legs as far as I could and reached down to rub inside my thighs. I
tilted my head back as I ran my hands up and down my hairy balls and my
thick shaft.

I grasped my cock hard and began to pump. I fisted my cock hard and
relished the feelings of a good wank. My feet were pushing my body up and
down as I humped my cock into my hand, my legs spreading wider. I could
feel the familiar tingling in my nuts and my stomach as I prepared for the
spectacular orgasm. I pushed my hips up further and stared at my piss slit
as it was rapidly covered and uncovered over and over again.

I pulled down on my foreskin hard as the initial blast of cum volleyed
forth from my cock. It sprayed my chest and shoulder. I pulled down hard as
I felt each shot approaching. Several streams streaked my chest and
stomach, quickly soaking into my dark body hair. I moaned as the last of
the cum dribbled out and poured onto my dense pubic hair. With a grunt I
dropped back onto the bed.

I lay in bliss after my incredible orgasm. I stroked the cum on my chest
and just lazily fingered my nipples. I wished this feeling didn't have to
end. It was over though and I was reminded of what afforded me these
sessions. As good as they were, they couldn't replace the feelings of
companionship and fraternity. I felt the self pity rising and loathed the
practical thoughts that always follow my edging sessions. I reached over to
the bedside table to grab a tissue to clean up. I froze, my heart just
about stopped. The bedroom window was completely open! My wide eyes matched
the gaze met by the ten year old next door neighbour's boy. I jumped off
the bed and dashed out the room. In my panic I threw on some clothes, still
covered in ejaculate.

I leaned back against a wall and squeezed my head in
frustration. Frustration at my complete lack of awareness and
stupidity. Fuck! What if the kid were to tell someone? His parents? I would
be labelled a sexual deviant, probably even a pedophile!  I would have to
move, start again, but it would still follow me around. I was terrified of
what was to come. I had to sort something out.

I took a breath and calmed down just a bit. I undressed again and with a
wet cloth, cleaned myself off. I re-dressed in somewhat nice clothing and
prepared to face whatever would come from what I was to do next.

I left the house and made my way across the lawn to the house next door. I
knocked on the front door. My mind was scrambled, thoughts of what to say,
how to explain, how to beg crowded everything and made it impossible to
form a coherent thought. I heard the latch on the door turning. Slowly it
opened.

I felt the blood rush to my head as he stood there in front of me. The boy
who had just seen me in the throes of self-abuse just looked at me as he
would anyone. I was caught off guard.

"Hello? Sir?"

He was talking, talking to me. It was such an innocent question but I still
felt immensely guilty.

"I—Uh, hi, I'm from next door. I'm really sorry, I think I need to talk
to your parents about what happened."

I didn't expect it, the tears burst from his eyes, panic flushed his face.

"No! You can't mister, I'm so sorry!"

He blubbered and his nose began to run. I was thoroughly confused. I felt
like crying too.

"What? You didn't do anything wrong kid. I just need to talk to your
parents and explain what happened."

"You can't! It's just my dad that lives here anyway, but he's out right
now. He'll be so mad at me. Please don't tell him I was watching you. It
was just an accident mister!"

"Hey...hey. You're on your own here? You've got to be about ten years old!"

"Yeah, I'm always alone here. Dad goes out a lot, it's okay though cause
then he's not mad. I'm sorry mister, please don't tell my dad."

He crying subsided but he was still sniffling. I felt bad for him, he was
alone and his dad was obviously abusive. I didn't know what was to be done
in a situation like that, I don't think anyone would have. I understood him
though, the guilt of not knowing when you are being good or bad. Abuse can
do that, blur the lines, confuse. My throat tightened, the feelings I left
were right in front of me, in this tiny body that was weighed beyond its
years. He stood looking up at me with watered eyes, he was waiting for a
response, probably expecting more abuse, cruelty or abandonment.

"I'm...not going to tell okay kid? I wouldn't want your dad to be mad. But
seriously, you shouldn't be alone at your age, isn't there somewhere you
could go, friends you could stay with?"

"Thank you, mister! But I have to stay here; no-one else will let me
near. They know my dad, they know what he's like and they tell their kids
to stay away from me. I don't have any friends, mister, so I just stay
here."

I felt the tightening in my throat grow stronger. I had to choke it down,
this boy was the saddest story I have ever encountered. I saw him more
clearly now. The little purple and yellow marks on his legs and arms, the
little split in his tiny lip, the shaggy dark blonde hair that was messy
and uneven. He was a crisis, virtually invisible. My own fear dissolved and
absolution filled me. This child would be my salvation; I would help myself
by helping him. He wouldn't become me.

"You do have a friend kid."

*** Thanks for reading this far. I know it probably didn't contain the
sexuality you were expecting, but I am trying something new here, something
I haven't really tried before. This will be an ongoing series. It will deal
with the relationship of a boy and a man and will hopefully challenge the
modern perception that all pedophilic experiences are evil.  Though I have
never participated in such a thing, and very much doubt I could, I have a
passion for abused children. I absolutely detest abuse and perhaps will
educate some with this literature. While not arrogant enough to apply it to
real life, this account will be my exploration into the morals of a
pederastic relationship and explain my own thoughts and possibilities on
the situation.  Please feel free to contact me with thoughts, comments and
criticisms. I am happy to discuss anything on the subject. Email me or add
me to MSN at:

 d-i-t-m@hotmail.com

Not sure how often I will submit more chapters, let me know if you would
like to be notified.  Cheers and have a good one =]