Date: Sat, 16 Oct 1999 13:58:34 PDT
From: The Platypus <the_platypus@hotmail.com>
Subject: Proper Balls

Proper shaped balls I.  (M/b NS)

Disclaimers:

This story contains descriptions of the sexual relations between an adult
male and a boy.  As ever, the characters in this story are not real, the
subject may offend, and you should not read this if you are below the legal
age for such material wherever you are in the world.

No attempt is made to recreate accents here - I'll leave that up to you guys!

Any rugby teams featured bear no resemblance to genuine teams or their
performance, except maybe what I'd wish would happen - this is FICTION!!

As ever, I'd welcome any constructive criticism, or better yet
encouragement! :o) Flames, on the other hand are a waste of resources, so
please don't send 'em to me

Enjoy

The Platypus

================

Proper shaped balls, part one: the wrong shaped balls are no good.

God how he hated the place.  No, that wasn't really true, was it?  After
all, he'd only been there a week.  It'd take much longer to really hate it,
but right now Chaz (only his grandparents, and [sigh] new teachers, ever
called him Charles) Winston didn't know what on earth had ever made his
mother leave Brisbane to move to Oxford.  Well, okay, he knew she'd got a
Professorship or something, that meant she was guaranteed a job for ages
with really good money, and that made her happy.  Chaz was glad, as she
hadn't been too happy since his Dad died a couple of years back, so maybe
the move was a good thing.  Mostly.
  Of course, Keith and Mick, the two louts who'd decided that he'd provide
their entertainment this term, and grabbed him in the alley on his way home
from school made everything seem fairly shitty right now.  After all, just
'cos he had an accent.  They all liked bloody neighbours, didn't they?
After a brief scuffle, the bullies grabbed his bag, and threw it over the
fence into someone's garden, telling him that they'd see him tomorrow,
before running off.
  Just great, Chaz thought, what a brill start to life in the new
neighbourhood.  He couldn't even see an easy way of getting over the fence
into the garden.  In the end he scrambled over the gate, and dashed up to
grab his back.  Having got it, he was just sneaking back out, when a man
appeared at the window.
  "Hey, kid!  Whatcha up to?"
  Damn, he was caught.
  "Sorry sir (being polite never hurt, did it?).  I was just getting my bag
back after some kids threw it into your garden."  Chaz waved the bag at the
man in proof of his story.
  Pete Burden took a long, serious look at the kid who stood in his back
garden.  He looked somewhere between ten and thirteen, and fairly well
built, though not exactly fat.  The deep blue eyes gleaming out from the
tousled mop of brown hair, and chubby, lightly freckled face radiated
sincerity.  "Okay, fine, go on then."
  Chaz thanked the man, then let himself out, and made his way home.

The next couple of days were fairly uneventful for Chaz, who slowly made a
small group of new friends, and got on well with most kids in his class.
He even seemed to have lost his novelty value for the pair of bullies
though, as he was to discover on Friday, that was far from true.  He
gradually settled into most of his classes at school, though he has
slightly behind in maths, and the school still hadn't worked out what to do
about his language classes.  He wanted to keep up with Japanese, after all
his mum did it for a living, but the school preferred him to do some
European language.  He'd let his mum argue with them about that.  The only
other disappointment was that the school played soccer, not rugby, and
certainly not Aussie rules.  He hated soccer.  The ball wasn't even the
right shape for heavens sake!  They didn't have a pool either, so swimming
was only available next term.  Argh!
  That Friday, he hurried home through the light rain as soon as the bell
went, in the hope he could catch the end of the afternoon game in the World
Cup.  As he entered the alley he heard footsteps running up behind him, and
turned to find Keith and Mick bearing down on him.  The two boys, a year
older that Chaz, but in the same classes as they'd been held back a year,
grabbed his arms and pinned him up against the fence.  "G'day there
newbie!" chuckled Keith in what he thought was an Aussie accent.  Mick just
grinned. "Settled in okay are we?"  Keith continued.  "Good, 'cos since
you're so smart" ('anyone, no anything is smart compared to either of these
two', thought Chaz), "we thought you'd like to help us with our homework."
"Yeah!" muttered Mick, in what was supposed to be an intimidating tone.
"Yeah, right!" Chaz's voice was heavy with sarcasm, that even the two
bullies couldn't miss.  "You will," Keith continued "hold him Mick!"  Yet
again the three boys scuffled in the alley, but Chaz was overpowered by the
two older boys who thumped and wrestled him to the floor.  This time Keith
grabbed his bag, and then bent to yank Chaz's new trainers from his feet.
The boy struggled, but could do nothing as all three items sailed over the
fence, landing with the sound of shattering glass.  The bullies legged it,
leaving a slightly bruised and pissed off Chaz in the alley.
  Seeing that there were windows open, and sounds coming from inside, and
since something had been broken by his stuff, Chaz realised that after last
time, he'd better go and ask the man if he could go into his garden again.
So he made his way round to the front of the house, and tried to shelter a
little in the doorway as he waited for someone to answer the door.
  Pete opened the door, expecting some salesman wanting to sell him windows
he clearly didn't need, to find a damp fairly and fairly depressed looking
kid standing there.  It was only when the kid spoke that Pete recognised
him from the other day.
  "Sorry to bother you sir, but those kids threw my stuff into your garden
again and I wondered if I could go in and get it, please?"  The boy asked
in a small voice as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other, and
Pete suddenly noticed the boy was wearing only soaking wet black socks.
His shoes were missing.
  "Come on inside kid, you're getting soaked out there.  I'll get you a
towel, then go and grab your shoes for you.  No sense in you getting any
wetter is there?"
  "Er, that's alright.  Since I'm wet, I might as well get my stuff, sir.
I, um, I think something glass got broke, but I'll pay for it."  Chaz added
hastily
  Pete reappeared with a large towel, then he showed Chaz into the lounge.
"You dry off, and have a seat, I'll be back in a minute.  Don't worry, I
won't get wet, I'm going to cheat!" he said, brandishing an umbrella as he
headed for the backdoor.  At least that got a grin from Chaz.
  When Pete returned, Chaz was standing on the towel in the hall, with the
door open, craning his neck around it to watch the TV while he yelled
encouragement at the Wallaby's latest passage of play.  Pete chuckled as he
dumped Chaz's sopping bag and trainers on the floor.  "Is the view better
out here?"
  "No, it's alright, I don't want to make a mess.  Just let me know how
much owe you for the glass.  I'll bring it round tomorrow."  Chaz replied,
looking sheepish, as he moved to collect his stuff.  He paused.  "Sorry,
that was rude.  Thank you for getting my stuff, and for the towel sir."
  "Now look, "Pete said, grinning as he watched Chaz glancing at the TV
again, "let's get a few things straight.  First off, don't call me sir, it
makes me feel old!  My name's Pete Burden.  Secondly, you don't owe me
anything, though the cold frame that gave its life to break your bags fall
might like a thank you sometime."  That made Chaz chuckle as Pete
continued, "I realise you might want to get home, but since you're here,
and it's really tipping down with rain out there now, you're welcome to
stay and finish watching the rugby if you want, kid."  Chaz tore his gaze
away from the screen, blushing slightly.  "Umm..." Now, genuine indecision
crossed his face.
  Pete chuckled again "Look, phone your mum first if you want, let her know
where you are, and tell her I'll drop you off at home if you like."
  "She won't be home from work..." Chaz began, but was interrupted by a
roar from the TV, someone had obviously scored.  Both of them dashed into
the lounge to get a good view of the replay.  Australia had put yet another
score on the board just before the half time whistle.  Chaz whooped in
celebration.
  "Well, since you've made a mess of my carpet, you may as well stay now
kiddo!"  Pete grinned when Chaz had calmed down a bit.  Chaz froze in panic
looking down at the damp footprints on the light coloured carpet.  "Shit,
I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, quickly peeling off his sodden socks, then
realised Pete wasn't serious.  "Don't worry about it!  You want a
drink...?"  Pete left it hanging, and Chaz realised he'd not introduced
himself.
  "Oh, yeah, please.  Something warm like tea if that's okay, please.  I'm
Chaz Winston.  My mum and I've just moved in a couple of streets away.
She's got a new job at the University, so we had to move over here."  Chaz
settled onto the sofa as Pete returned with a mug.
  "There you go Chaz.  Look, this place isn't so bad once you get settled
in, you know."
  "I guess."
  Pete's His eyes were drawn to Chaz's feet, which were almost white from
the cold.  Now Pete enjoyed the company of young boys, particularly their
inexhaustible energy, but had never thought about them in a sexual way.  He
did think that a boys feet were pretty much the most beautiful things on
the planet though.  Chaz's were the most adorable of specimens.  They had
the most wonderful soft looking skin, straight rounded toes with
well-trimmed nails, and like Chaz's face, his feet were just slightly
chubby.  "Your cold" he said.  "Tell you what, I'll put the fire on, and
you can warm up while your stuff dries out a bit."  He longed to go over
and rub those smooth soft feet until they were all warm and toasty again.
  "It's OK Pete, now I've dried off I'll be okay."
  The second half began, and as the game progressed, they talked a little
about what they liked doing, and Chaz talked a bit about life in Brisbane,
when they weren't busy shouting at the TV.  It became clear to them early
on that the other knew a good deal about the game.
  "It's not fair you know," Chaz blurted, "I was in the school first team,
and they don't even play the damn game at school here.  Only soccer, and
the bloody balls the wrong shape in that!" he moaned, setting Pete
chuckling.  "No wonder England are so bad at it!" he continued with a broad
grin
  "Hey, now look, it's not nice to insult your host like that," Pete joked
back, "besides, there are teams outside of school round here you know.
We've got an under 13 and under 16 side in Witney" he continued, grinning
as Chaz almost leapt out of his seat.  He looked so much like an eager
puppy that Pete couldn't help but laugh.
  "Really?!  Do you think they've got any places for players?  How do I
find out when they meet?"  Chaz blurted the rapid-fire questions like
machine gun bullets, practically bouncing on the sofa in excitement.
  "Calm down!  Now, to answer your questions: yes, really!  We're always
looking for good young players, bet especially at the start of the season.
As for" "What do you mean we?" Chaz interrupted.  Pete smiled.  "I play
full back for Witney, and help coach the youth teams, so I think we can get
you along to practice if you want."  "Cool!" yelled Chaz as he leapt up and
hugged Pete.  Then he realised what he'd done, and backed off hurriedly,
blushing slightly.  "Um, sorry he said, bashfully."  "That's okay Chaz"
Pete said as he mentally drifted back down from cloud nine.  Wow, that
hadn't happened very often.  "No problem!"
  They finished watching the match, with Australia romping home another
three tries for a comprehensive victory.
  Chaz got up, looking out at the weather.  "Damn, it's still raining!
Well, thanks for the drink, and putting up with me Pete.  I'd better get
home."  "It's pouring out there Chaz, you can't walk home, I'll drop you
off.  Besides which, if you're going to make the team then the last thing I
need is for you to come down with flu or something."  Chaz's smile lit up
the room.  "You really think I'd make the team."  "Well, if you can make it
to practice on Sunday morning, and we'll find out."  "Brilliant!"
  Pete went out to open the car with Chaz's bag, expecting him to put his
shoes back on and then follow him out.  He was very surprised when Chaz
just gathered up his stuff, was right behind him out the door, barefoot,
and apparently not at all bothered about the puddles.
  When they got to Chaz's house, his mum was home, waiting.  She looked
worried as she opened the door to find a strange man letting her son out of
the car, and with bare feet.  What on earth was going on?  "And just where
have you been, Charles?  She demanded.  Chaz dashed up the path, and into
the house, ignoring his mum's question, as he launched full flight into a
rapid explanation about how he'd found a rugby team and could he play on
Sunday.  She invited Pete in, and introduced herself then ordered Chaz to
get dried off.  While he was upstairs, Pete explained how they'd met, and
that he coached the local junior teams.  When Chaz reappeared, Pete was
talking about the weekend practice session as he made his way out.
  "See you Sunday then, Chaz!"  Pete called as he left.  Chaz stood in the
doorway grinning as he waved goodbye his first real friend in Witney.

-------------------------
End of part one
-------------------------

Part two: A forward kind of boy will arrive soon(ish).

I think I know where this will go in part two, but if anyone has
ideas/suggestions for how Pete and Chaz go from here, I'd like to here 'em.