Date: Mon, 24 Dec 2007 10:59:29 -0800 From: Kevin <kevroc54321@tns.net> Subject: Saved By The Boy, Chapt 1 Saved By The Boy Chapt 1 ============================================================== As uisual, please pay attention to the laws / statutes / etc for the area in which you reside with regard to reading this type of material. If you are not 18, you are supposed to exit now. If you are offended by gay themes, particularly cross-generation feelings, relationships, sex, stories about such, etc, you should also exit now. What is written here is not to be confused with a recommendation that you go out and emulate this story, or its generally fictionalized characters. Barring that, read on. ============================================================== I go to a park in my area on weekends mostly, taking myself for an outting that doesn't consist of sidewalks, asphalt, or oncoming cars. I like getting out of my apartment, catching a bit of sun, and of course see what cute boys may be out and about. In turn, I will either read, say hi to people who are there with their kids and/or animals also, read a book, or just practice a few moves on my well-worn "jo", a martials arts stick. Me, I'm Michael. Although I'm 44, I'm in good shape, the result of many years of martials arts, weightroom lifting, jogging, and eating fairly well. 6', brown hair / brown eyes, about 180-185#. To be honest, I'm what you'd consider fair looking, but not cute or "hot". Ok by me, I've seen what that route can offer in the way of drawbacks, not that being just ok-looking doesn't have a few of its own, lol. Anyway, I'm outgoing, smile a fair amount, like to talk to people, and will usually initiate a "hi" to someone close enough for social etiquette to warrant it. To be honest, and probably blunt, I'm into younger boys. Not 11 or 12, mind you, but younger. Being a classic boylover for the most part, I'm sincerely into admiring teens, not just out to feel their crotch. If a symbiotic relationship develops, fine. If it ventures into questioning / wondering / sexual questions / horeseplay / wrestling, ok too. I had a boyfriend for several years that was (ulp) underage when we started, and he passed away due to circumstances he brought from a previous relationship. Although the 4 years together with him were incredible, I was crushed by the loss. So on the open, legal dating scene I almost never went out, approached anyone, etc. It's been a few years, and I still miss James, although I have had a few one-nighters here and there. And so, I half-heartedly look. My view, despite my strong points, was that I was too old, younger boys / guys didn't want older hardly e-v-e-r, and I was pretty much done for as far as having a young(er) boy again. I've saved a few boys from hard circumstances, in my time on this Earth, and am proud of having done so. A few were with abusive parents. A few were trying to come out. A couple just wanted to fool around and I'm glad it was with me instead of their going to park restrooms, or waiting outside of Adult Shops to ply their wiles to people they didn't know and probably couldn't trust. I guess it was only fitting that I be saved, too, but considered that I'd been saved once by a wonderful, beautiful, sensitive boy who chose me to be with, and that perhaps that was all I could ever hope for. I was at the park, swinging around my stick. It was a cooler day, so I had jeans on, which coincidentally had a little rainbow sewed onto them. I wore modest ear hoops, and that was about as flamboyant as it got for me. Well, mostly. But in this case that was it. In short, if someone was slightly observant it was obvious that I was gay. And yet, this boy who looked more European than American walked up, smiling. "That's pretty cool. What are you doing? Some sort of martial arts or something?" he smiled. My guess was he was 13-14, tall and obvious hitting hit growth spurt, beautiful brown eyes, and sort of "rock star" longer brown hair. Longer around the back and sides, trimmed a bit in the front. Nice.... "Yeah, sure am," I smiled back. "How are you?" "Doing good. Do you mind if I watch a bit?" "Not at all. My name's Michael," and I stuck my hand out for a handshake. "Nicky," he smiled again, "pleased to meet you." His hand was warm, grip not too tight, and he didn't pull away in any hurry from the handshake. Didn't linger, just didn't give a quick one. With that he walked a short distance away and say down on the grass, arms wrapped around his pulled-up knees, chin resting on top. Occasionally he'd flip his hair around or back as the breeze caught it and put in into his eyes. He had features that you could say were out-and-out handsome. Not just a cute boy, or good looking boy. He was slender and tall, beautiful eyes, smiled a lot, and was handsome. He asked a few questions here and there, smiled, watched, and hung around for probably 15-20 minutes. Getting up, he waited until I stopped and walked over. "Better be going, stuff to do. Thanks," he smiled, and offered his hand again. Shaking it, I replied, "Pleasure was all mine NIcky, see ya next time," and with that he walked off. I knew he wouldn't look back right away, but would most likely waiting until he got to the edge of the park, just about to leave the area. And he did. He smiled one more time when he saw I was looking, and waved again. Of course, I waved back! This was Saturday, so I came back about the same time on Sunday, hoping he'd be there. He came up, smiling again, shook hands and said hi. I patted him on the back and said it was good to see him. "You, too," he said back, and moved of a short distance and sat down again. This time he stayed a bit longer, but chatted a bit along the way. He talked about how his knees were sore from his growth spurt(!), it was hard to run, etc. I sympathized, smiled back, and said he looked just fine to me. He smiled. As he spoke, I got the idea that he was either gay or thought he might be. Just by the inferences he made. On top of that, he was always polite, generally upbeat, and smiled often. Damn. He told he me he was 15, and would be 16 in a week. Honestly, this boy looked like he was not only a late bloomer, but really appeared to be about 13. I asked if he was learning to drive, and he happily said yup, he had his learner's permit. "Cool," I said. "If I get too overheated here, we can go to the 7-11 for a cool drink and you can drive." "Really?" he asked, aghast. "Sure. Couldn't drive any worse than I do," I smiled. "I've been driving since I was 14," Nicky said. "I live with my grandma and sometimes she can't drive and it's too far to go to the store and back, walking. Plus carrying all the food and stuff. So, I started driving for her a couple years ago." "Nice. A quick learner," I hinted. "Yup," he smiled proudly, not giving a clue as to whether he got the hint. Except that he leaned back and supported his body with straight arms, legs crossed in front. Smiling. Ulp... As it turned out, we went to 7-11 and I got us a couple drinks, and Nicky drove. "You want to go back to the park, or your grandma's at this point?" I asked. "Back to the park, I guess. A couple friends were supposed to come and throw the football a bit. So I guess I'll wait." "Cool." I threw him the keys and we got back in the car and were on our way. He did drive pretty well, actually. Pulling back up at the park, he put the car in neutral and pulled up the parking brake. "Thanks, Michael, that was cool. I'll c'ya again sometime." "Thank y-o-u," I smiled. "It isn't often I get chauffered around by the cutest driver in the park. He didn't know what to say. "Why don't you be here next Saturday again, same time, and I'll start showing you how to use this stick. You seem kinda interested, and well, I like teaching." He nodded, "Ok, cool. Sounds good. C'ya then," he smiled. I patted him on the shoulder again as we shook hands, and off he went. How many days away was next Saturday? ============================================================== (responses can be sent to kevroc54321@tns.net)