Date: Tue, 18 Jul 2000 21:27:40 -2200
From: Opus J <opusfra@gay.com>
Subject: Steven-Revisited-Part 2

I am very grateful for your words of support.  All sex is complex, but
inter-generational sex is about as difficult as it gets, for both
parties. In this section of the story the sex is between two minors.  If
you don't approve, go watch EastEnders.

Five

I had some serious thinking to do.  I moved uneasily betweeen the kitchen
and the lounge then back again, pausing each time at my bedroom door. The
small shape in my bed was still sleeping, motionless except for the rise
and fall of his chest.  His protruding rib cage served as a reminder that
this was no Hollywood love story.  The boy had suffered years of physical
abuse. He was fragile and I was not a psychiatrist.

In the kitchen, I went to pour myself a coffee, only to find I had switched
the machine off and what was left was almost cold.  I poured it anyway,
skipped the milk and sat myself down at the table.

We had had sex. Why ?  What had made him reach out to me, and what had made
me respond with such sudden intensity ?

As I sat at my kitchen table, cradling a cup of luke-warm coffee, a door
opened in my mind.  Memories from a bygone age came flooding in, like light
into a dark room, like water into a desert. I was breathless, remembering
it all too quickly, too much all at once.  I am dizzy with memory.

Six

"Cas.  CAS !" I turn to see Steven running up the hill behind me.  A huge
grin spreads across my face and I whoop with delight.

"I thought you weren't coming" I shout as he draws nearer, panting and
laughing at the same time. His father had forbidden him to go out until the
house was clean, a Herculean task since he, his father and his two brothers
lived in a pigsty which would never be clean, even if Steven worked from
dusk till dawn for the rest of his life.  His mother had left two years
before, tired of the beatings and tired of going to work to provide beer
for him instead of food for her sons.

"I went out the back window. The bugger's drunk as a lord - he'll never
know I'm gone.  Let's go " he shouts and is racing ahead of me now.

We run to the Municipal Baths, hollering like mad things as we go, jumping
fences, light as air. We are fourteen years old and it is the first week of
the summer holidays.  We have nine more weeks of freedom, and we have just
enough money to get into the baths and to buy a Coke afterwards.  We are
rich beyond our wildest dreams.

The gruff attendant lets us in with a warning - no dive-bombs, no splashing
the grown-ups and no peeing in the shallow end.  We adopt angelic looks and
head for the changing rooms.  While I am changing, I notice Steven looking
at me.

"What's up, Stevie ?" I ask.  He looks away quickly.

"Nothing, Cas.  I was just thinking how much we've both grown this year.
You're turning into a real man now." he seems embarassed.  He's taller than
me and more muscular, but he has almost no hair around his dick while I
have loads.

"You too, Stevie.  You'll be taller than your old man soon."  As soon as I
say it I could kick myself.  Steven's eyes grow distant and he finishes
changing in silence.  We run to the water and dive in, laughing again.

On the way home, Steven grows quieter with each step.  As long as his
father is still asleep, things will be fine.  We turn the corner into his
street and Steven stops suddenly.  His father is standing at the garden
gate, waiting.  He is smiling, but there is no humour in that look.  Rage
has twisted his face into something that just happens to resemble a smile.
Slowly his father raises his right hand and beckons to Steven.  He turns
and walks into the house.

"Oh Jesus " Steven murmurs.Ê"Shit and buggery."

"Don't go in, Stevie." I plead with him, but Steven is not there anymore.
His body is vacant, his mind somewhere else, where belts and fists don't
hit and hurt.  His body moves towards the house and I turn and run home,
fear bringing tears to my eyes.

Seven

The rattling at my window wakes me out of a dream.  I think it is raining,
but as I rise up out of sleep I realise it is fingernails drumming on the
window , trying to wake me but not the whole house.  I move over to the
window and see it is Steven standing there on the roof of our garden shed,
leaning precariously over to tap on my window. I open the window quickly
and help him pull himself in.  I can tell by the way he moves that he is
hurting badly.  He looks at me for a long time, his breath coming in
shallow painful bursts. He doesn't speak.  If only he would say something,
I could answer him.

As if in a faint, he sways and drops backwards onto my bed, covering his
face with both hands, hiding his face as he silently howls his frustration
and humiliation. I can do no more than wait for him to finish.  After ten
minutes he is exhausted enough to let his arms fall down to his sides.  I
suddenly realize that I am exhausted too.

"Get undressed.  We can talk in the morning."  I offer a hand to help him
up, but he refuses, struggling up into a sitting position on his own.  He
goes to remove his shirt, then stops.

"Put the light out, Cas " he whispers. I understand. Some things hurt too
much to share.

I hear him getting out of his clothes, then the sudden warmth of his body
against mine as he slips between the sheets.  We automatically turn on our
sides, his bottom pressed into my groin, as we have slept countless times
before.  But it is not enough now.  I sense that he needs more than this.
I slip off my pajama top and slide my left arm under his head, draping my
right arm across his chest, wanting him to feel the warmth of my skin
against his back.  Something makes me place a soft, tender kiss on his
shoulder.  We sleep.

I awake, confused.  It takes me a few seconds to realize who is in my bed,
what he is doing there. It takes a couple more to notice that my pajama
bottoms are wide open. My dick is hard as a rock, so hard that it hurts.  I
panic slightly, hoping Steven is not awake.

"It's OK" I hear Stevens sleepy voice, and my heart sinks.

"Put it back.  It was kind of nice."  He reaches behind me and pulls me
back against him.  He isn't wearing underpants.  My dick rubs awkwardly
against his buttocks, then finds the crack of his bottom which allows me to
nestle against him again .  The movement of his body against mine is making
me unbearably horny.

"Sorry, it has a mind of its own." I say in a slightly breathless voice.
There is a tension in the air, an electricty that I don't recognise.

"Mine too." He half-laughs and, grabbing hold of my free hand, guides it to
his groin, where I can feel that he has a towering hard-on also.

"Christ, Stevie.  It's huge." I run my fingers down the shaft to the few
hairs at the base, then back up the shaft to the tip where my finger
brushes off a bead of liquid.

"Keep doing that, Cas." He murmurs, and I oblige, running my fingertips
from head to balls and back again.  He is grinding his bottom into me now,
sending strange and wonderful sensations through my dick, like small
electric shocks over and over again.  I take his dick in my fist now and
begin a slow wanking motion.  He is moaning softly now and I hope I am not
hurting him.  He doesn't tell me to stop.  He reaches one hand between his
legs and pulls my dick between his thighs.  Squeezing his legs together
tightly he begins to rock backwards and forwards.  The sensation is
indescribable, overwhelming. I can hardly breathe.  I bury my mouth in his
hair and inhale the smell of him.  We are almost one person now, my chest
and stomach glued to his back, his bottom tight against my groin, my dick
between his thighs and my hand clasping his hard penis.  Somehow he turns
his head and I think he is going to say something but instead he kisses me
lightly on the mouth.  I draw back at first, surprised, but then my lips
find his and his tongue pushes into my mouth.  The sweat between his thighs
makes my dick slide easier and faster now, and I feel the pleasure
mounting.  I want this to last but I dont want to break our kiss. Suddenly
I come, exploding between his thighs.  I feel the hot jet burst out of me,
splash over my hand and the head of his cock, over the inside of his thighs
as he moans into my mouth, not breaking the kiss, and he shoots his own
load into my hand, slick now with our mingling sperm

Eight

I returned slowly to myself, still sitting at the kitchen table, my coffee
cup untouched and cold now.  I shivered slightly.  The clarity of the
memories was disturbing; the smell of his hair, the feel of his skin, but
most of all the need.  I had felt his need. In bed with Matt just now, I
had felt that same need.  I breathed deeply, shivering again, tears
pricking at my eyes.  I had failed Steven.  I would not fail Matt.

I turned towards the bedroom and was surprised to see him standing in the
doorway, naked except for a pair of my underpants which he was holding up
with one hand, his other hand rubbing his eyes sleepily, a big grin
splitting his face when he heard my laughter.

"They're a bit big but they're all I could find." He said defensively.

"I think you need some new clothes, young man." I said, still laughing.

We waited until his clothes were dry and set off for town in the MG, the
top down and Matt hollering with delight as the wind rushed through his
hair.  I put Blur in the CD-Player and we woo-hooed along to "Song Number
2", pulling into the multi-storey car park in a deafening racket which drew
disapproving looks from a few passers-by.  Before we went in the first shop
he suddenly stopped and took my arm.

"I'll pay you back, Casper.  I promise." He looked so defiant I could not
refuse.

"OK, Matt.  Just a loan, alright ?"

"S'right.  A loan." He seemed happy with this compromise, and two hours
later he was looking very handsome in cargo shorts, a Fishbone sweatshirt
with matching backpack and Reebok sneakers.  I persuaded him to let me loan
him enough to buy two more pairs of jeans, 4 T-shirts and some underwear.
I didn't ask his permission to buy him a Camel suede jacket, although his
eyes went wide at the price tag.

"I'll never be able to pay you back that much, Casper." His voice was so
anguished that I just had to step forwrad and take him by the shoulders.

"This is a gift from me to you, Matt.  You gave me something very valuable
today, something almost priceless.  I want to give you something in return
".  It was true.  He had given me back a part of my life that day, a chance
to heal a deep wound.

"But the rest, you pay for." I finished firmly.  He looked uncertainly into
my eyes and then grinned again.

"I'm starving, Casper.  Can we go home and get something to eat ?"

He must have seen the surprise on my face when he said 'home' and read it
as disapproval beacuse he put his hand up to his mouth and once again a
look of distress came over his face.

"I mean...to your house. Not mine..." he was stammering trying to correct
himself.  I put a finger to his lips to quieten him.

"It's alright, Matt.  It's just going to take some time for me to get used
to having you around."  I smiled reassuringly.

"Are you ever NOT hungry ?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I'm a growing boy, Casper." He asked, relieved that I wasn't angry.

We ate at my favourite Italian, where I ignored the puzzled looks from the
management and people who knew me and concentrated on watching Matt eat
almost his own bodyweight in pasta, drinking water although I could have
done with my usual bottle of red wine.  I knew that I had to keep my head
clear for the time being.

It was late when I pulled up outside the house and Matt had already yawned
twice behind his hand.  He smiled at me contentedly before getting out of
the car and carrying his purchases into the house.

Inside, while he chose a CD, I went to prepare one of the guest rooms for
him to use as a bedroom.  I shook my head in amusement as the sound of Paul
Desmond's sax drifted in from the lounge.  Almost silently, he appeared in
the door, looking surprised and somehow disappointed.

"I thought we could...you know...I thought we were..." He couldn't find the
words to say that he wanted to sleep with me again.  Fourteen-year-olds
seldom can.

"Matt, you're so young.  What we did today wasn't legal.  It probably
wasn't right either."

"How can you say that ?" He was shouting suddenly.Ê" How can you say
that something that good isn't right ?" His shouting turned to sobbing, the
words coming out almost in a whine.  I moved quickly over to him, tried to
calm him, but he was hysterical now.

"I want to be with you.  I love you." He managed to get out between sobs.

I managed to get my arms around him, pull him into my chest, hold him until
he stopped crying.

"Matt, I want you to know that you can stay here for as long as you
want. All I want is for you to be happy.  If we sleep together, I think we
might end up being unhappy." He raised his eyes to mine, puzzled.

"What do you mean ? It's what people who love each other do, isn't it ?
You don't love me, do you ? " He tried to pull away but I held him tight.

"Matt, we only met this morning.  I like you a lot.  I may even love you.
I just don't want to hurt you.  I will never hurt you, do you understand ?"

"Then please let me stay with you tonight, Casper.  We don't have to do
anything. Just let me sleep next to you."  He was pleading with me.  Slowly
I nodded and we made our way to my room.  I went into my small bathroom and
as I prepared for bed, I turned over in my mind the events of the day,
wondering at the same time what tomorrow held in store for us.  Such a long
time since I had given a damn about tomorrow.  Matt had given me a reason
to get up in the morning without a hangover for a change.

When I got back into the bedroom he was already asleep, his breathing
regular and deep.  To me it seemed as if the bruises on his arms were
already fading. How long before those on his mind and soul would do the
same ?

I slid between the sheets and let his scent send me off to sleep.

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Opus likes to get emails at <opusfra@gay.com>

He doesn't like people who dont like him for WHAT he is, without knowing
WHO he is.