Date: Tue, 19 May 2009 18:07:10 -0400
From: kyle <datsmyemail2@gmail.com>
Subject: Stealing DJ

This story is crazy good.  Read at your own risk; side effects include
throbbing erection and drooling mouth.  Enjoy!

Questions, comments, pictures- DatsMyEmail2@gmail.com

	It was supposed to be an easy snag, especially for him.  He'd been
doing it for most of his life now after growing up with a single mother in
a rather poor town.  Just go in, grab the shit, get out safely, and meet
back at the safe house.  Easy.  Everything was going according to plan up
until the exit, and that's where things got messy.  But we're getting ahead
of ourselves, so lets back up a bit.
	The sun was directly overhead, beating down on the backs of the
inhabitants of the small, poor town.  The whole town wasn't entirely poor;
in fact, there were many wealthy people who lived there.  But the division
of the money was so extreme that there were only the very wealthy, and the
piss poor.  To grow up in this type of environment, the poor had to fend
for themselves to survive.  Of course, this is always easier to do when you
stick together, and most of the poor youths did.  And this is how we come
to meet our little boy.  At the heart of the towns most notorious band of
misfits resides our boy.  The band was a group of six boys in total that
always had each other's backs for security purposes.  They all lived
together in a run down house that was supposed to be demolished over three
years ago but never was since the demolition company fired most of its
employees and eventually went out of business.  So they shared the old
house divided amongst the six of themselves and lived out their lives as
thieves, peddlers, and beggars.  Today was supposed to be a casual day with
no misfortune planned.  Today, our boy was supposed to do what he does
best.
	"Alright, you know the plan, Gum?" the leader asked our boy.  This
was nothing out of the ordinary, so yeah, he knew what to do.
	"Yeah, I got it," he answered, nodding his head to show he
understood.
	"Good, we'll be outside waiting for you, don't fuck up," Ray
ordered.  Ray was the leader of the group.  He was also the founder.  Ray
was twenty years old and known as the `boss' of the band of `brothers'.
Gum nodded his head again and ran off towards the destination.  Knowing
full well what failure resulted in, Gum couldn't fuck this up, only success
was acceptable with Ray.  He was called Gum because he had a knack for
stealing.  They said he had sticky fingers, like gum, and the name stayed
with him ever since.  His real name was DJ, and he was a fifteen-year-old
boy.  He joined the band when he was eight, after his mother died, when Ray
took him in and showed him the ropes.  He couldn't disappoint the Boss, he
just couldn't.  He knew what he had to do and it was simple enough.
	Down the street were five stores that were known for their
extensive merchandise and common products.  Typically, the band would snag
a few of the less expensive goods and sell them later that week on the
street to the rest of the community, earning them the money for food and
other resources.  But today, DJ was told to get something bigger, something
far more pricy, and thus, more risky.  Usually, the clerks at the store
wouldn't catch the kids stealing the goods because a bunch of them would
come in at once and divert their attention.  But Ray decided to just send
DJ, an experienced thief, to do the job.  Sometimes the clerks would notice
the boys stealing their goods, but they were petty things, such as baseball
cards or things of that nature.  Never had the boys ventured in to the
other areas of the store that held the pricier materials, such as watches,
rings, and other jewelry.  But today, that's what the plan was.  Ray had
lined something up with one of the rival storeowners the past week.  See,
the street that housed the five stores was home to multiple rival
storeowners.  Many of the stores sold the similar goods and there was much
competition for buyers.  So Ray had propositioned with one of the store
owners to steal something of value from his next-door neighbor and sell it
to him for half the price.  The man, Mr. Pratt, had agreed to pay half
price for his competitor's new silver wristwatches that were just put on
sale last week.  So Ray gave DJ the task of snagging these wristwatches.
	Gum slowly walked up to the street of stores, approaching from an
alleyway, as casually as he knew possible.  It was mid February and a
strong chill was in the air even though the northern town was getting an
unusual visit from the sun.  DJ was wearing a baggy pair of worn sweatpants
that were ripped at the bottom hem where his shoes constantly stepped on
them.  The pants were much longer then needed for the small boy and they
hung loosely to his hips and ass.  To combat the cool air, DJ also wore a
brown sweatshirt that was given to him by Ray after he grew out of it.  It
was with this sweatshirt that DJ was able to steal most anything.  He would
just slip things under the baggy material and put his hands in the front
pocket to conceal any noticeable bulge that the object made in his
sweatshirt.  He was very good at concealing any and all objects, no matter
the size; so a couple wristwatches shouldn't be that hard to hide, right?
The stores were now only a few feet in front of him and his friends waited
in the alleyway that he emerged from, expecting his return any minute with
the pricy items.
	The bell that was placed atop the door of the entrance jingled as
DJ entered the shop.  `That was new,' DJ thought to himself as he walked
around the store, searching for the watches.  He spotted the shelf of
watches in the back of the shop nearest the cashier, but knew there was no
way he could just walk up to it and take it.  So he went over to the usual
section of baseball cards and what not that he was accustom to stealing.
He spent about two minutes thinking of a way to snag the watches before an
idea hit him.  DJ walked over to the assorted deck of cards and sifted
through them, paying careful attention to the clerk that was watching him
like a hawk.  Another minute passed before he made his move.  Picking up
his courage, DJ made his way over to the shelf of watches, quickly looking
them over, before tripping over his shoelace and knocking into the shelf,
bringing down with him seven of the ten watches that hung on the rotating
shelf.  The clerk instantly stood up and walked over to DJ, who was picking
himself up.
	"Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry, I just tripped," DJ said with a smile on
his face as he began helping the clerk pick up the watches.  The boy was
too cute to be mad at and the clerk saw this.
	"That's okay, mistakes happen young man," the clerk responded as he
helped pick up the fallen watches.
	"Well, see ya later Mister!" DJ said after all the watches were off
the floor and back in the clerk's hand.  He stood up and headed for the
store exit, which was only ten feet in front of him.  The clerk finished
putting the watches back on the shelf, then realized that three of them
were missing!  DJ had quickly thrown three of them into his pocket when he
was on the ground, before the clerk got there!
	"Hey! Kid!  Get back here!" the clerk demanded as DJ looked back
and saw him rushing towards him with a look of hatred on his face.
	"Oh shit!" DJ muttered and quickly ran the few paces to the door
and pushed it open before he turned the corner to run towards the alleyway
and safety.  Unfortunately for him, there was a police man making a causal
stroll around the block that afternoon and saw little DJ run like crazy
while being chased by a store owner!
	"Help me! Sir that kid stole from me!" the clerk shouted to the
cop, who instantly took off in the direction of DJ.  DJ made it to the
alleyway and ran inside to see his friends waiting with grins on their
faces, which quickly disappeared when they saw that DJ wasn't about to stop
running!  The five other boys instantly turned and booked it down the
alley, looking back to see the cop on hot pursuit.  DJ's breath was getting
short as he exhaled quickly into the cool February air.  His hot breath
made visible clouds in front of his face as he ran with all his might.  Ray
caught up to DJ and gave him an angry look as he passed him and turned down
a different alleyway on the left.  The rest of the gang followed Ray, but
the cold air was making running difficult and the Cop was still very close
to them, almost gaining!  All the running was making the watches shake
around in the front pocket of DJ's sweatshirt, jiggling around barely
staying inside.
	"Shit," DJ said as one of the watches fell out of his pocket as he
was running.  He looked back at the fallen watch ready to stop, but the cop
was too close for him to safely go back and get it.  Ray turned his head
back and saw the watch on the ground and shot another angry glace at DJ,
who was growing very scared.  The gang continued running through the maze
of alleys that spanned over the town.  They just needed to get to their
place, but they couldn't lead the cop to their house!  They had to loose
this policeman!  Just then one of the boys in front of DJ tripped and fell,
causing DJ to trip over the fallen boy.  DJ heard a crack and knew one of
the faces of the watches had broken.  "Shit shit shit!" DJ cried as he
tried to get up to his feet.  The cop was only twenty feet behind them now
and closing in.  The rest of the gang continued running, but the fallen boy
remained on the ground.  Luckily DJ got to his feet in time and rushed
forward, leaving the other boy behind.  The gang turned a corner and
continued running with DJ close behind.  The other boy was nowhere to be
seen.  DJ kept looking back, waiting to see the cop, but he didn't see any
signs of him.
	The band of boys stopped at a fork in the alleyways and caught
their breath.  "I think we lost him," DJ said, panting.
	"No we didn't, he stopped chasing us," Ray snapped.  "He has no
more reason to chase us, he's got Brendan!"  DJ's eyes grew wide as Ray
looked down at him.  Ray was about 6 foot 3 inches tall, over half a foot
taller then little DJ.
	"I, I, I'm sorry, really..." DJ said as he looked up at Ray.
	"Gimme the watches!" Ray ordered as he put his hand out with an
open palm.  DJ slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out two watches
and placed them in Ray's hand.  Ray looked at them then back at DJ.  "Well,
lets see how you did," he said as he examined the watches.  "Oh, look at
this, one of `em is broken with a huge crack down the face..." Ray began.
"So that leaves us with one, when I promised the guy three..." DJ heart
rate picked up and he began to say something before Ray cut him off, "Shut
the hell up, don't say a fucking word." Ray closed his eyes and clenched
his teeth.  "You knew how important this was!  You knew what failure meant!
And now those cops have Brendan!  You fucking idiot!"  Ray was screaming
now, which attracted the attention of a pedestrian walking on the streets
just outside of the alleyways.
	"Boss, please, I did my best..." DJ began.  Ray quickly swung at
little DJ and caught him right on the cheek and part of his eye.  DJ fell
backward and on the ground.
	"I said shut up Gum!"  DJ's hands quickly covered up his face,
trying his best to tend to his bruise.  The four boys surrounded DJ as he
lie on the ground holding his face.  "You fucked up, now we fuck you up!"
Ray shouted as he kicked DJ as hard as he could in the side.  DJ screamed
in pain as he clutched his ribs and closed his eyes, tears welling at the
sides of his shut eyelids and running down his cheek.
	"Stop! Please..." DJ pleaded, but that only earned him another kick
in his side from one of the other boys.  DJ's curled up to try and protect
himself from the pummeling he was receiving from the band of boys.  Each
one of the boys got a good kick in before Ray gave another hard shot to
DJ's side.  The intense pain was too much for little DJ and he tried in
vain to cover his wounded body before Ray gave one more kick, which landed
on DJ's head, knocking him out instantly.
	The pedestrian out taking an afternoon stroll down the block had
heard multiple shouts and cries coming from the alleyways a few hundred
feet in front of him.  Being the curious man that he was, he decided to
check it out and see what was going on.  He stopped in utter awe as he saw
four boys kicking the shit out of a little kid that looked like he was
passed out on the ground in front of them.  "HEY!" the man yelled.  The
gang of boys looked up to see the large figure rushing down the alleyway
towards them at a fast pace.  Ray was the first to turn to run away, and he
was soon followed by the remaining three boys that were standing.  They
rushed down the alley in the direction of their safe house, leaving the
bruised and bloody DJ behind on the ground in a pool of his own blood.  The
man rushed over to tend to the wounded boy that was on the ground.  He
gasped as he saw how bruised the young boy was, but there was something
else that caused him to gasp, but he couldn't place it.  He tried to help
the boy to his feet after checking to see if he was breathing and still
alive, which he indeed was.  DJ was regaining conciseness as the man was
helping him to his feet and instantly thought he was still being attacked
by Ray and the gang.  DJ quickly turned around and swung at the person who
he thought was going to harm him.  He caught the man on the chin with his
tightly clenched fist but immediately regretted it.  He saw that it was
just a man helping him, not harming him at all, and he just clocked him in
the face!
	"Ouch," the man said as he gently rubbed his jaw, "you're pretty
strong," he said with a smile as DJ looked up and into his eyes.  For some
reason, DJ felt safe, and he smiled back and said a soft, "Thanks..."
followed by a quick, "sorry for punching you, I..." But the man cut him
off, "That's alright, let me help you."  Then DJ remembered his own wounds,
and his adrenaline wore off and he felt the pain again as if he was just
getting the beating for the second time.  DJ buckled over and clutched his
sides, grabbing his ribs as the pain ripped through his little body.  The
man quickly bent down and grabbed hold of little DJ to stop him from
falling over.  DJ was grunting and his teeth were clenched as the pain
caroused through him.  That's when the man noticed the large black eye that
was becoming apparent on little DJ's face.  So the man picked up the boy in
his large hands and carried him safely out of the alley and back towards
the street he came from.  The man walked with the boy in his arms down the
street and turned left onto a side street where he lived.  He was a wealthy
man, known to his colleagues in his business as Peter, and he lived a quite
life alone in his large apartment over looking the small town.  For some
reason that he couldn't place, he just had to help this boy, so he decided
to bring the little boy back to his place to patch him up and mend his
wounds.  His apartment wasn't far, Peter only had about fifty more feet
before he came to the entrance.  He lowered the wounded boy as he pulled
out his key to open the door to the lobby.  Little DJ grabbed onto Peter's
belt to steady himself since he was feeling dizzy from the extreme beating
he received recently and Peter smiled to himself as he looked at the
helpless boy.  "I got you," he said as he opened the door and picked up DJ
again.  He walked inside the lobby and called for the elevator.  It was a
decent sized apartment building, definitely nicer then anything DJ had been
in anytime recently.  Peter didn't need a fancy place though to please his
lifestyle, he just needed a cozy welcoming place where he could relax.  The
elevator arrived and the man stepped in with the boy still in his arms,
wrapping his hands around Peter's neck to hold on.  The doors closed as
Peter hit the button for the twelfth and top floor.  Elevator music played
softly throughout the ascent to the top floor of the small apartment
building.  Peter looked down on the boy that clung to him tightly as the
numbers on the elevator lit up, one by one, gradually approaching 12.  He
smiled to himself.
	The doors opened slowly to allow Peter to step into the hallway of
the twelfth floor.  The carpet cushioned his sore feet that were in much
need of a break after running through alleyways.  And now, with the added
weight of the small, but still significant, child that was held in the
strong hands of the large man, they could use some cushioning.  The walk
was short, only about twenty feet, to the front of Peter's door.  Peter
struggled to retrieve the key that was in his pocket.  This would have been
a simple task but proved difficult to do with a sleeping, wounded kid in
his hands.  He lifted his leg to support DJ on his knee as he leaned
against the wall to free up his right hand.  Almost something you would do
with a bag of groceries that you refused to put on the ground because that
would be a waste of time, when at the same time, the struggle wastes just
as much time.  So after fishing into his pocket to grab the key, he turned
the door\knob and pushed the heavy wooden door open.  He brought the small
boy into the family room, which was almost the first room from the
entrance, if you don't count the welcome space and hall closet by the door.
Slowly, Peter lowered the sore boy onto the large green sofa that made an L
shape around a large flat screen television mounted on the wall, flanked by
two bookcases.  The boy seemed undisturbed and lay completely motionless on
the cool sofa as the man sighed a great breath of relief.  He watched the
slow breathing of the boy and the slight rise and fall of his stomach with
each intake of breath.
	"Sorry bud, but I gotta look at those bruises..." Peter said, more
to himself then to DJ.  So he lifted the boy back up after clearing his
kitchen table and putting a blanket and a pillow down on top of it.  He
lowered DJ onto the new `examining' table slowly and carefully, trying his
best not to wake the boy.  "Alright, here we go."  Peter lifted the
sweatshirt and t-shirt that hid the bruises from view.  In the boy's
current position, Peter was unable to see much just by lifting the clothes
off of his tummy.  So he decided it was best if he just took them off.  He
started with the sleeves of the sweatshirt, pulling them up and off of each
arm of the boy as he lay peacefully on the table.  Next, Peter lifted the
boy into a sitting position to bring the sweatshirt up and over his head,
which was a tedious process.  But he managed.  "Just gotta do the same
thing with the shirt," he told himself as he went back to work.
	Lying there quietly, save for the sound of breathing, the boy
rested, shirtless.  Peter took a moment to look over the boy.  DJ
surprisingly had a slight tan, even though it was the winter, and his tan
skin made a nice contrast to the grey sweatpants that were covering his
legs.  Peter admired the genuine beauty of the boy, subconsciously staring
at the boys small round pink nipples that were slightly hard due to the air
that was around them when they were used to the warmth of a t-shirt.  Peter
looked lower and gawked at the carefully defined belly of the boy.  He was
skinny, no fat in sight, and his abs were clearly visible in this position.
A definite four pack could be seen on the boy, and in a few years or less a
six pack would complete the picture.  Looking even lower, Peter stared at
the perfect inny belly button.  Not a hair was in sight on the boy.  No
happy trail, no beginnings of chest hair, nothing.  Peter smiled to himself
as he let his eyes wander even lower.  With all the carrying and lifting,
the boys sweatpants had sagged a bit, along with his green boxers.  Peter
saw the tan line that went to a shade just lighter then the rest of the
boy.  He could only imagine what lied further down on the boy.  The subtle
`v' tapered perfectly into the boys crotch and, although some of DJ pelvis
was exposed, no hair presented itself.  "Focus Peter, what are you
thinking!" he said to himself as he closed his eyes for a second before
opening again to see if DJ was still sleeping.  Indeed he was.
	Peter took a trip to the kitchen to grab a few bags of ice.  While
the boy may have a beautiful body, it was littered with bruises.  He came
back to the boy with three bags of ice in his hands.  Before he applied the
ice he examined the bruises.  There was a large black and blue on his lower
left side, right on the rib.  Peter ran his hand softly over the sore area
on the boy to see if he could feel any signs of broken bones.  He wasn't
sure, so he did it again, for I a little longer this time.  Slowly, he ran
his open palm along the side of the exposed boy.  He could feel the warmth
the boy was giving off as he massaged the boy's bruises.  Peter took his
hand away before he looked up at the boy's face again.  The boy moved, a
little, just shifting his head from side to side, possibly dreaming, but
still asleep.  So Peter placed his hand on the other side of the boy, which
also had a large bruise that ran the length of this ribs, probably from the
continuous kicks that the larger boys nailed DJ with.  Peter continued to
rub his hand on the boy, feeling for any noticeable damage.  He put both
hands on the boy, now feeling his chest a little.  He could feel the muscle
of the boy's pecs as he brushed his hand over the boy's nipple.  Letting
his eyes wander, Peter noticed a large bruise on the boy's bicep.  He
picked up the boys arm in his warm hands and massaged the bruised muscles,
making tiny circles over the injured area with his thumbs.
	"Mmmph.." the boy grunted.  Peter immediately stopped his massage
and looked over at DJ's face and saw his eyes were still tightly closed and
his jaw had dropped a little, causing his mouth to be slightly open.  Peter
went back to work on the boy's arm, making more little circles with his
thumbs.  He picked up DJ's other arm and looked for any bruises.  Luckily
that arm was spared.  He focused his attention back on DJ's ribs and their
large bruises.  Peter rubbed DJ's left side with a little more pressure
this time, making sure there were no broken bones.  He let his fingers
wander and his pinky came in contact with the boy's navel.  He dipped his
pinky in the little hole and heard the boy grunt again, his mouth hanging a
little bit more open this time.  Just then Peter looked over at the boy's
crotch and noticed a very visible and large tent poking up from DJ's
sweatpants.  Now it was Peter's time to let out an audible gasp.  DJ had a
raging erection that was lifting his sweatpants up to a rather large
height.  The tent was not perfectly upright, but it ran the length of his
right leg and failed to stand perfectly straight up due to the weight of
the sweatpants and mostly likely the tight boxers that hid his boner from
view.
	Peter quickly looked away and grabbed the bags of ice off the
table.  "Sorry bud," he said as he held the cold bag against DJ's injured
side.  The boy's eyes shot open as soon as the cold compress made contact
with his warm skin.
	"Shit that's cold!" DJ said as he tried to push the bag away with
his hands, but Peter held the ice firmly in place.  He noticed that one of
DJ's eyes was slightly more closed then the other, most likely due to the
fierce right hook that Ray threw at the boy's face.  `Probably going to see
that all nice and blue by tomorrow,' Peter thought to himself as he looked
at the boys face.
	"Its for the best," Peter said as he kept the bag in place.
	"AH, why does my head hurt? Fuck! It really hurts!" DJ said as he
threw his hands up and around his head, no longer concerned with the ice
that was still rather cold against his soft skin.
	"Those kids were beating you, I took you back to my place so you
could get better," Peter explained to the boy who was clearly in pain.  "My
name is Peter, what's yours?"
	"Everyone calls me Gum," DJ said through clenched teeth.
	"I'm not asking what everyone calls you..." Peter began.
	"DJ." He said after a slight pause to allow him to look up and into
Peter's soft brown eyes.  "DJ," he repeated.
	"Well DJ, its nice to meet you."  DJ's eyes lit up from that.  He
hadn't been called by his real name for so long!  It felt good!  Felt like
he belonged, felt like he had a home again, a friend, a family.  "Are you
hungry?" Peter asked as he quickly glanced down at the boy's crotch.  DJ's
boner had subsided due to the intense cold compress that surprised him and
causes his penis to deflate.
	The boy nodded his head slowly as Peter turned to walk into the
kitchen.  When Peter was out of sight the boy reached down and groped
himself for a second, adjusting his dick to a more comfortable position.
He noticed a little bit of a wet spot on his sweatpants and panicked.
`Holy crap! If he kept that up I would have blown in my pants!' he thought
to himself as he saw Peter reenter the dining room.
	"Alright, I got some pasta I could heat up from last night, how
does that sound?" Peter asked the boy, who was still holding onto his
penis.
	"That sounds great!" the boy said smiling.  He hadn't had a home
cooked meal in ages!  He couldn't wait!  Peter returned to the kitchen to
pot the bowl of pasta into the microwave to heat it up as DJ hooped off the
dinning room table and onto the floor.
	"That was quite a beating you took," Peter began as he hit `start'
on the microwave.  "May I ask what it was that you did to deserve such a
pounding?"  The boy found his shirt but didn't make any attempt to put it
back on, instead he threw it up and over his shoulder and joined Peter in
the kitchen.
	"Um... well I kinda... ya see... I don't know where to begin..." DJ
stammered.
	"I would assume the beginning," Peter said as he looked over the
smooth chest of the 5'5" boy that stood in front of him, occasionally
reaching down for a feel of his penis and scrotum.
	"Well, see I used to be in a sort of... gang, I guess you could
call it, with those kids.  I joined up with them when I was really young
cuz my parents died when I was really young.  So I needed some security of
my own..." DJ looked sad as he continued telling his tale.  "We all worked
together and shared everything we got.  We were a little community, almost,
living and working together.  But today I messed up, and I got quite a
punishment..." A single tear rolled down the boys face as he looked at the
tiled ground below him.  The beep of the microwave startled the boy out of
his saddened trance and it reminded Peter, who was just staring, jaw
dropped, at the boy, to do something to console him.  Peter walked over to
the little boy and wrapped his arm around his shoulders as he pulled him
close into his own body, feeling the warmth of the soft skin on his bare
forearms and big hands.  DJ shuddered as the man wrapped his arms tightly
around him, giving him an embrace he hadn't felt since he was a child and
his dad was alive.
	"It's okay DJ..." Peter didn't know what to say, he still didn't
entirely know the story or anything about this boy, but for some reason he
felt compelled to make him feel welcome and safe.  "You're welcome to stay
here till you heal up," he began as he held the boy out at arms length to
observe his bruises again.  They were beginning to change color to a purple
hue that left a big lump in Peter's throat.  He felt so sorry for the boy.
	"Are you ... Do you mean... Really?" DJ finally said as he looked
up into Peter's face and smiled.
	"Positive, now lets eat, okay?" Peter smiled back as he made eye
contact with the deep blue orbs that were DJ's irises.  `It's a shame his
beautiful face will have such a large bruise in the morning...' Peter
thought to himself as he led DJ over to the table and scooped some pasta
onto a plate.  "Here you are bud, would you like something to drink?"
	"What you got?" DJ said, feeling more comfortable with the man.
	"Well, lets see, I have water, milk, juice, and soda, oh and some
beer but you're a little young..." Peter said as he grabbed a beer for
himself and awaited DJ's order.
	"What do you mean? The gang and I used to steal so much beer and
bring it back to the house, I ain't that young!" DJ said trying to defend
himself and yet not really concerned if he got a beer or not.
	"Well, how bout a soda, maybe you can have a beer later, before you
crash on the couch," Peter said as he pulled a Pepsi from the fridge and
handed it to the still shirtless boy.  He watched as the boy hungrily
devoured the pasta that was before him, barely stopping to breath, just
shoving forkful after forkful into his mouth.  And then he stopped.
	"Hey, Peter, I want to thank you, again, for saving me, you have no
idea how much it means to be accepted by an adult again..." DJ trailed off,
stared at his plate.
	"Hey, I would gladly protect you from anything," Peter said.  He
couldn't even believe what he was saying!  He just met this kid, and for
some reason he felt obliged to protect him, nurture him.  The boy looked up
at the man again, and felt clam, welcome, and he went back to eating his
food.  Peter began to nibble at his as well but his thoughts were
elsewhere, and that place being on this sweet boy and what he was going to
do with him.
	The two ate in silence for a little while longer until DJ finished
his second helping and his second soda and put his plate in the sink and
then took Peter's plate and put it in the sink as well.  "Mom used to make
me clear the table all the time when dad was around, it's the least I can
do to show my appreciation..." DJ said.  Peter smiled at him and stood up
from the table.
	"Why thank you little man, would you like to watch a movie with me
before I go to bed?"  DJ hadn't had the luxury of television entertainment
in such a long time, and was eager to pounce on the opportunity.
	"Hells yeah I would!" DJ said as he rushed into the living room and
plopped down on the sofa, stretching his small body from one end to the
other, propping himself up with some pillows.
	"That's some mouth you got there," Peter said as he picked up DJ's
legs and swiveled them around she they were resting on the floor and DJ was
in a sitting position.  Peter then sat himself down next to the boy as he
turned on the large flat screen television.
	"Oh, jeeze, sorry, I haven't had to watch my mouth in forever,
guess it's a bad habit..." DJ explained, truly sorry for upsetting Peter.
	"Its no worry at all, I'm just busting your balls," the man said,
but quickly regretted it.
	"You're what now?" DJ said amused.
	"Nothing, get your mind out of the gutter," Peter replied as he
threw a pillow at the boy.  DJ laughed at settled into the soft couch as
Peter flipped through channels until he came to TNT where `Hot Fuzz' was
playing.  The two settled in to watch the movie and before long DJ was
finding his eyelids were becoming heavy.  It was rather late into the
night, about 9-o-clock, which was pretty late considering the boy took a
rough beating and was still sore.  Peter noticed that DJ was nodding off
and decided to grab a blanket for the boy.  When he got back, he wrapped
the blanket tightly around the boy who was still sitting up right and
trying to watch the movie, but it was proving to be useless.  Peter sat
back down and continued watched but almost spit his beer out when DJ rested
his head in Peter's lap!  He didn't want to disturb the boy so he let him
be, with his head on Peter's crotch and his hand on his right thigh.  Peter
decided to stay still and just continue watching the movie, which was
almost over.  But Peter had nowhere to put his right arm if he wanted to
remain comfortable, so he let it drop on top of the boy's slender waist and
there it remained.  He continued to watch the movie in silence until he
felt the boy move a little, and before he knew it, the boy was shifting his
head and stimulating Peter's penis.  The friction the boy was causing made
blood rush to Peter's quickly growing manhood.  DJ moved his head upward a
little, so his head rested on top of Peter's pelvis and his right hand
followed his upward expedition.  DJ's hand slowly crept along the inside of
Peter's right thigh, going further upward.  Peter was finding it hard to
concentrate on anything else and soon his penis was growing and extending
the length of his pants, inching its way down Peter's jeans, and it
happened to veer right and go down his right pant leg.  The more he tried
to concentrate on something else, the more his penis grew, and soon, he
felt his cock head come in contact with DJ's young hand.  A chill went down
Peter's spine as DJ's hand slowly felt around the head of his cock,
exploring the object in his sleep, squeezing softly at the head until a
small gasp passed through the parted lips of the thirty two year old man.
He hadn't realized it but his right hand was running up and down the length
of the sleeping boys naked torso.  Feeling the soft skin under his fingers
sent shivers all over the man's body.  He immediately felt guilty and
picked the boy up gently and scooted out from under him before returning
the boy to his resting spot on the couch.  He quickly rushed into his own
bedroom and shut the door behind him as he unbuttoned his pants and let
them fall to the floor.  His throbbing boner tented the front of his boxers
as he rushed over to his bed and tried desperately to fall asleep, but
images of the young boy kept popping into his head, specifically of the boy
with his shirt off, and then of the boner that he had saw hidden by the
sweatpants that the boy wore.  He tossed in his sleep, wrestling with his
dreams.  He could see himself feeling the boy up, playing with his tiny yet
hard little nipples, rolling them around in his fingers until the boy
moaned and cried in ecstasy.  He envisioned the soft skin of the boy and
his soft brown hair and beady blue eyes.  He was gorgeous.  Peter was
sweating in his sleep, tossing in his bed as he tried in vain to rid
himself of these sexual images of the sweet boy.  Then his eyes shot open
as he sat up and saw DJ standing in his doorway, clad in only his boxers.
The moonlight cast a perfect shadow on the boy, accentuating his gentle
features and his toned body and clear muscles.  His silhouette outlined by
the glow of the moon caused Peter to sit up and stare blindly at the boy.
"I can't sleep, do you mind if I come in?"  Peter said nothing as the boy
slowly approached the large queen bed, stepping softly over Peter's jeans,
which littered the floor along with the man's shirt and socks.
	Regaining his voice, Peter answered, "Su-Su-Sure..." and he threw
back the covers.


To be continued, that is if you want. Let me know.
DatsMyEmail2@gmail.com