Date: Wed, 5 Jan 2005 09:05:20 EST
From: Justin0398@aol.com
Subject: Stonebridge Days 03 by Justin Davis (M/t, mast, oral, anal)

The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between a young male
and an older male. If material of this nature offends you then you should
not read this story.  Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in
most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.  Additionally, the actions of the characters in this story
are in no way intended to show approval of, or give sanction to, their
actions.

The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Positive comments are always welcome and you may e-mail them to
Justin0398@aol.com


Stonebridge Days
By
Justin Davis

Chapter Three


Brandon would have moved in with me if I had let him.  Yet, I impressed
upon him the need to be with his mom and the necessity of being around
others his own age as much as possible.

Even though school had started we didn't necessarily see less of each
other.  I helped Brandon with his homework, cooked dinner for him some
nights, and we took in a movie, shopped at the mall, or some such, when
the weekend came.

It was on one such trip to the mall that Brandon announced, as we passed
one of the kiosks that featured jewelry, that he wanted to get his ears
pierced.  Back then, piercing was not as common as it is today.  Although
I thought he would look magnificent with gold rings in his lobes I
impressed upon him that that was something he absolutely had to have his
mother's permission for.

I remembered what Sylvia, Brandon's mom, had said about him having a way
of getting what he wanted.  For his fifteenth birthday, I took Brandon to
a nice salon and bought gold rings for his ears and a gold chain for his
neck.  Sylvia had given in. Sexually, things went very well, although I
was reminded more than once about the difference age makes in terms of
sex drive.

Brandon seemed to be perpetually horny.  Often, the moment he came
through the front door of the apartment he was shedding his clothes.  On
more than one occasion he did his homework in the nude, sexually
satisfied for the moment after I had gobbled another load of his sperm.
It was the bribe I often had to pay so that he would concentrate on his
studies, not that Brandon didn't repay me in kind.  Homework done, we
would retire to my bedroom where we did the slow lovemaking.  Not
infrequently, he would stop buy on his way to school and leave with a
load of my cum in his tummy, having opened up my bathrobe and dropped to
his knees the moment I closed the front door.  Brandon was a master at
oral sex and loved "giving head" as much as receiving it.

Brandon was also a natural top.  He absolutely loved to fuck my butt,
which was ironic because I prefer the top position myself.  So, it was
when Brandon bottomed that I was in ecstasy. Always, Brandon would rap
his long legs around my waist, and his arms around my neck, so that he
could look into my eyes as we fucked and kissed.

"Oh! Shit yes! Fuck me, Ryan!" he would plead.

"Oooooo!  Oh yes! Ooooooo! Ooooooo!" he would chant as I pounded his
upturned butt.

Often, we came together, Brandon wanking his dick, yelping, and
ejaculating all over his stomach as I filled his insides with cum.  Then,
we would remain coupled together kissing, until my cock softened and
slipped out of his butt.  His cries of disbelieve, the first time he had
an anal orgasm and had his first hands-free cum made us both break apart,
me laughing and him somewhere between crying with delight and laughter.

Only occasionally, would I see Sylvia, Brandon's mom.  Her waitress job
kept her busy.  True to her word she really didn't seem interested in
knowing what Brandon and I did sexually or otherwise. Mainly, she just
wanted to know his whereabouts and that he was safe.

It was in the spring that things took a dramatic turn in my relationship
with Brandon, and it all began with another phone call from his mom.

"Hello?"  I answered.

"Ryan, this is Sylvia, Brandon's mother," the voice on the other end of
the line said.

"Uh yes, Sylvia," I replied.

"Something terrible has happened and I need your help," she said.

"Oh my, not Brandon I hope!" I said.

"No, it's not Brandon.  My sister has been in a terrible car accident in
Reno.  I'm going to have to go out there for awhile and help out.  She's
going to live they say, but she's going to need me to care for her for
awhile."

"Oh, I'm very sorry about that Sylvia.  I hope your sister gets better
soon, but I don't understand what I can do to help."

"It's Brandon, Ryan.  I can't take him with me.  I can't pull him out of
school for that long.  Could you look after him while I'm away?"

"Well, Sylvia. I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

"Please, Ryan. I would be so grateful.  Brandon likes you so much.  It
would really help things a lot if he could stay with you until I get
back."

"Well, okay, Sylvia.  If it will help you out I'll do it."  I replied,
not even thinking what the future impact would be from what I had just
agreed to do.

"Oh, thank you thank you!  Brandon will still have a key to the apartment
and he can get the things he needs as he needs them.  I'll tell him.
He'll be very happy.  I'm sorry, I have to try and get a flight to Reno.
Thank you so much! Goodbye!"

"Goodbye, Sylvia," I said, and hung up the phone.

Naturally, Brandon was happy about the whole prospect of us being
together full time.  Although hardly a day had gone by when we hadn't
seen each other under the old arrangement, sleeping with me every night,
something I had never let him do, seemed to excite Brandon.

As for me, well, it was strange having someone to share my bed full time
again, the fact that my bed partner was fifteen not withstanding.  Then,
too, I guess it was kind of the final step that cemented us together as
lovers, for the time being at least.

With the exception that we now slept together, not much changed in our
relationship over the next month, except that the two of us became even
closer in other ways.

Brandon was a tease, and he loved it when we ate dinner out and the
waiter or waitress thought he was my son.

"And what will your son be having?" they would ask, and Brandon would
look at me and grin, wiggle his eyebrows, and then snicker and I would
blush.

Of course, because he had told me, I knew what he always wanted to say to
them. "I'll have his dick in my mouth please!"  Fortunately, he refrained
from doing that.

For Christmas morning, that year, I gave Brandon a gold Seiko watch and a
gold ID bracelet.  In return, he gave me a book on the building of the
Panama Canal, a new bathrobe, and his butt on the floor in front of the
Christmas tree that morning.

Sylvia called off and on.  The progress of her sister wasn't going well
at all.  It seemed that it might take many months of rehab for her to be
able to walk again.  So, one month stretched into two and then went into
three.

April came and Brandon announced that he wanted to get his hair cut.  I
was crushed.  The thought of all that long, blonde, hair on the floor of
the salon saddened me.  I tried to persuade him to change his mind.  He
wouldn't hear of it.  I finally told him I wouldn't let him.  It was our
first fight.

"It's my fucking hair!" he screamed at me.

"Yes, it's your hair.  But, I'm in charge while your mom's away and I'm
saying no!" I said, throwing my weight around for the first time.

"I'll get it cut if I want to!" he countered.

"You will not!" I replied.

"Will to!" he said.

"Will not!"

Back and forth like two school kids, you know the routine.  We
compromised.

I took Brandon to an exclusive shop I knew of and had his hair cut and
then permed.  I think even Brandon was surprised at the results.  The
always-bleached nature of his hair, and the curls, made him look like a
young Christopher Atkins with gold rings in his ears.  He still wears his
hair that way.

At the end of April, Brandon's mom returned and Brandon moved out of my
bed back into his own.  But, only for awhile.  I hadn't seen Brandon for
three days when his mom was again sitting on my living room couch.

"I'm going to have to move out to Reno and live with my sister," she
announced.

"Oh!"  I replied, my heart sinking.

"Brandon is just sick about it.  In fact, he hasn't come out of his room
for three days except to eat, and then not much at that. He cries almost
constantly, unless he's asleep."

"Oh my, that's not good!"  I said, now understanding why I hadn't seen
him for three days.

"No, it's not good at all. At first I told myself he'd get over it, but I
know he won't," she replied.

"Well, maybe you're just under-estimating him.  Brandon is tough for his
age."

"No, I know I'm right.  I want you to keep him here with you."

"What!"  I exclaimed, in shock.

Sylvia looked at me and smiled.

"He loves you you know," she said.

"But-I-"

"I can see it in his eyes when he talks about you. Leaving you is what
he's crying about.  He may be able to deal with that someday, and you
might too, but not right now.

"Sylvia, I assure you I---"

"Look, you may be a business executive and I may just be a waitress but
I'm not stupid," she said interrupting me.

"Sylvia, I've never thought you were stupid."

"You're in love with Brandon aren't you?" she then asked.

I sat for a moment afraid to admit the truth to her or myself.

"Yes, Sylvia.  I'm in love with him."

"So, you see why my suggestion makes sense."

"But Sylvia----!"

"Do you want Brandon to be happy?" she asked.

"More than anything in the world." I replied truthfully.

"Ryan, Brandon has never had a father or an older brother.  He needs a
stable life right now.  He needs your influence.  Although I'll never
understand the gay life style, you're what he needs right now."

"Sylvia I'm not so sure about that.  Brandon's and my relationship may
not be as stable as it seems to you."

"I know perfectly well what the relationship between the two of you is
and how it got that way. I know how persistent Brandon can be.  He
generally gets what he wants.  There's not the slightest doubt in my mind
that he pushed you into it.  Simply put, Brandon wanted you and he got
you."

"Well, I can assure you I didn't intend to fall in love with him."

"I understand.  It was the same with his father and I. I'll have the
papers drawn up before I move.  I haven't told Brandon yet, but I suspect
he will be one happy kid in about the next fifteen minutes. I'm
transferring custody of him over to you.  You'll be his legal guardian
until he turns eighteen."

"I don't know what to say, Sylvia." I replied.

"Say yes, and make a very vulnerable and lonely kid happy, and yourself,
too." She replied.

Two weeks later, my hand trembled as I signed the guardianship papers.  I
wondered if I was doing the right thing and if I was going to be able to
balance the role I was expected to play as Brandon's guardian with the
closeness of our relationship.  I knew it wouldn't be easy and I was
right.

Sylvia left for Reno a week after the papers were signed.  She had asked
me to dispose of what she hadn't packed and shipped ahead and use the
money for Brandon.

I worked with the management of the apartment complex and got a
two-bedroom apartment. Brandon and I moved his furniture into the second
bedroom.  Although he insisted he didn't need his own bedroom, I assured
him he could sleep with me any time he wanted and explained to him that
at his age he needed a place where he could have his own space.  I hadn't
forgotten what it was like to be a teenager.

The next weekend, we had an apartment sale and sold off what Sylvia had
not taken with her.  The money we made became the foundation of Brandon's
college fund. Already, I was beginning to think ahead.  Yet, Brandon
thought it funny I was even worrying about it.

If I could pick one summer, when the two of us were constantly and
intimately close it would have had to be the one immediately after
Brandon's mom left. It was a honeymoon time true enough.  The rough times
would be ahead.

That summer, weather permitting, we headed to Coco Beach on the weekends
and I introduced Brandon to surfing, something I hadn't done since I was
a teenager growing up on the Gulf Coast of Texas.

Brandon loved Ron Jon's Surf Shop and emptied my wallet at every
opportunity when we went there.  He became a "surfer dude" in the truest
since of the word. All he ever wore anymore around the pool was a pair of
board shorts, the yellow Speedo being reserved for his attire around the
apartment.

I would buy three day passes to Disney World and Epcot, and like two
little kids, we would spend those weekends riding all the rides again and
again.  It was a wonderful time and the most memorable summer of my life.

Physically, Brandon matured even more that summer.  He quit shaving his
pubes.  He began to grow blonde wisps of hair under his arms.  He
testicles now naturally hung low and his penis increased in length and
circumference.  However, like me, there was not a sign of body hair on
his chest, stomach, or legs.  With the exception of the now prominent
blond trail that ran from his navel downward to his pubes, he kept the
rest shaved smooth.

The second bedroom became Brandon's room in every sense of the word.
With the exception of the bed and the nightstand, most of the furniture
and other items were those that were his when he was living with his
mom.  Thus, the walls became adorned with the usual posters and items
that a typical teen plasters on them and it was most certainly a display
of Brandon's changing interests over time.

The last week in August, Brandon began his sophomore year in high school
and the summer fun ended. It wasn't much into the second week of school
when Brandon expressed an interest in joining the soccer team and I
encouraged him to do so, hoping that the camaraderie would be good for
him since he didn't have that many friends.

I gave Brandon a new pair of Nike soccer shoes and probably the best
multi-colored goalie shirt around, since that was the position they had
put him in on the soccer team.  It was not long after that that we had
the first, of what would be several fights over the years.

"But, why can't I go?" he had asked.

"One, because it is a school night.  Two, because you need to study for
your Algebra test tomorrow.  Three, because if you flunk anything this
semester you aren't going to be able to play the rest of the fall soccer
season." I replied.

"God!  You're such a tight ass!  I'm gonna pass the Algebra test.  I'll
be home by midnight." he countered.

"Midnight is too late on a school night and you know it.  Now the answer
is no and let's talk about something else." I replied.

"You're not my mom!  You're not my dad!  You just want me fucking here so
you can fuck my butt!" he shouted and stormed off to his bedroom, and
once there, slammed the door behind him.

I sat stunned, halfway between crying and getting very angry. I guess
then was when I first realized that this whole thing was going to be very
much more complicated than I had thought.  I wish I had been wrong.

I went to bed that night, the first time in a long time that Brandon
wasn't there with me, and cried myself to sleep wondering if anything
would ever be the same and if I had fucked up things so soon.

The next morning, as I sat drinking my second cup off coffee and reading
the newspaper, I heard a rustling noise and lowered the paper. Brandon
was standing in the kitchen doorway, in his boxer shorts, with his head
hanging down.

"Well, good morning," I said, in a not too chipper tone.

Brandon raised his head and looked at me for a few moments then spoke.

"We are gonna have a lot of this shit huh?" he asked.

"A lot of what shit?" I replied.

"You are gonna want me to do crap I don't wanna do and I am gonna hate it
and we are gonna fight," he replied.

I folded the paper and laid it down upon the table, then looked up into
those brown eyes of his and spoke.

"Brandon, if you ever doubt that what I want for you is the best in all
the fucking world, then I'm going to ship your ass out to Reno. Yes,
we're going to fight about a lot of crap it seems.  But, God in heaven!
What would ever make you think that every minute of the day, every
second, I don't think about what is best for you?  Christ, Brandon! I
took on more than I ever thought about in my life by agreeing to have you
here with me.  Yes, you're right. Of course I want your ass, and you want
mine, true enough.  But, as much as I love you in the sack and out of it,
nothing, absolutely nothing, is worth having you get totally fucked up
and flunk out of school.  So, I'm gonna say no sometimes and I'm gonna
say yes sometimes.  But, I'm the one responsible, to your mom, to myself,
and most importantly to you."

Brandon hung his head again, then looked back up at me, tears in his
eyes.

"I 'm so sorry for what I said," he said.

"Hey, forget it.  It's over.  Apology accepted.  Now what do you want for
breakfast?" I replied.

Things went smoothly for awhile.  Then, for his sixteenth birthday,
Brandon informed me he wanted a motorcycle.

"No way in hell!  They're an accident looking for a place to happen!" I
replied.

"You're just an old fart!" he shouted angrily.

Again we clashed.  I compromised and enrolled him in a Driver's Training
School so he could get a learner's permit.

For the rest of the fall semester things went well, the stark terror I
felt as Brandon drove the car with me in the passenger seat not
withstanding.  Brandon blossomed at soccer, and although his grades
weren't anything to qualify him for academic honors, he didn't make
anything less than a "C" in any subject.

That Christmas, I broke the bank and both of us flew out to Reno to visit
his mom for a few days.  Then, I rented a car and we drove to California
and spent most of the rest of the holiday there visiting San Francisco,
and the redwood forests north of there, and then down to San Jose and
through the valley area and on to Los Angeles.  I blew all my vacation
time. I've never been sorry.

To this day, it is one of my most memorable experiences.  I got a great
deal of enjoyment watching Brandon's amazement at so many things he was
seeing for the first time, and if anything, I think the bond between us
became even more special.  Yet, about mid-way through the spring
semester, I could tell that our relationship was changing.

There were subtle little signs as first.  Brandon began to sleep in his
bed more frequently than mine and he became less vocal when he was around
the house.  Remembering how I was at that age, I tried not to pry or push
and figured that whatever was bothering him he would work out in time, or
eventually he would come and talk to me about it.  Yet, over the next
weeks Brandon became more somber and withdrawn and even the casual kiss
or hug on his part seemed to be obligatory.

"Brandon, can I talk to you for a minute?" I eventually asked, one
afternoon when he had come in from soccer practice.

"Yeah, sure!" he replied, and set his book bag down and plopped himself
down on the couch.

I turned off the television.

"Brandon, is there something bothering you you want to talk about?" I
asked.

"Nah, things are okay."

"Look, Brandon, I'm trying not to push or prod, but something is
bothering you.  I can see the changes in you."

"Nah, really everything is okay, I'm just confused, that's all."

"Confused? About what?" I asked.

"Things.  Just stupid stuff," he replied.

"Like what?" I asked.

Brandon kind of looked down for a moment then back up at me.

"Ryan, I think I'm in love with someone," he eventually said.

"Oh!  I see!"  I replied.

"Not that I don't love you.  I think I love you more than anyone on this
whole earth!"

"That's nice. I haven't heard you say that you loved me in awhile."

"Really? Gosh! I'm sorry! I've just been so confused and I feel kinda
guilty too."

"Guilty? Why do you feel guilty?" I asked.

"Because of how I feel about you and how I feel about Mark."

"Whose Mark?" I asked.

"A guy I met at school," Brandon replied.

"And he is the one you are in love with?"  I asked.

"Yeah."

"Does Mark know this?"

"Oh no, no way!"

"Tell me about Mark."

"Well, he's on the swim team, he's a junior, and he has the most
beautiful green eyes and smile and his abs are to die for!" Brandon
replied.

"That does sound nice, but I really meant for you to tell me more about
him as a person." I responded.

"Oh that?  Well, he and I like the same kind of music, and even the same
movies and stuff.  We talk all the time about that stuff at lunch.  I've
even been over to his house a couple of times after school."

"Oh, I see."

"Yeah, I didn't tell you cause I didn't want to hurt your feelings or
anything."

"How do you know he would want to have some kind of relationship?"

"Cause he's gay."

"Has he told you that?"

"He doesn't have to, I just know."

"Oh, "Gaydar," huh?" I responded.

"Yeah."

"Well, you need to be very careful about that.  You might be reading some
things there that aren't there."

"Nah, I don't think so. He knows I'm gay."

"Oh really?" I responded, shocked that Brandon had "outted" himself to
someone. "And how does he feel about that?" I then asked.

"He said it's okay with him."

"Okay, and how does he feel about me?" I asked.

"You?"

"Yes, me.  How does he feel about you living with a gay man?"

"Uh, I really didn't tell him that much.  He thinks I live with my
uncle."

"Okay, I think I am beginning to see the problem here."

"Like what?" Brandon asked.

"Well, first of all, I know why you feel guilty, and I am not going to
let you off the hook on it because you should feel guilty.  You're being
dishonest with Mark and you're being dishonest with yourself by not being
truthful.  Now, I can understand why you haven't been, but you should
have told me about your feelings before now." I replied.  "Secondly, I'm
disappointed that you didn't trust me enough to tell me that you were
beginning to have feelings for someone else.  Hell, Brandon, he's almost
your same age.  Did you think that I ever thought that you and I would
always have the same kind of relationship?" I asked.

"Well, yeah!" Brandon replied.

"Look, Brandon, I knew, deep down inside, that just because of the
difference in our ages, if nothing else, that our relationship would
change.  It's natural for you to fall in love with someone closer to your
own age."

"I love you too, though."

"Yes, I know, and I can understand why you're confused."

"Yeah, it is kinda screwed up," Brandon replied, prompting me to chuckle.

"Look!  If you want me to be your uncle I will, although I don't think
that's being honest.  However, you're a sharp guy.  I think you already
know what the right things to do are," I said.

"Yeah, I think I do."

Two days later, Brandon brought Mark over to the apartment and introduced
me to him as his guardian.  Indeed, Mark was just as Brandon had
described him and I could see why he was taken with him.  He was a
stunner!

In the ensuing weeks I became more Brandon's guardian, and very much less
his lover.  Although we would make love from time to time when he would
crawl into bed with me, anything sexual between Brandon and I occurred
only sporadically from then on.

About the third week after I had met Mark Brandon informed be they had
begun to have sex.  I sat down and had a long talk with Brandon about
safe sex.  Simply put, if he was going to eventually be fucking Mark he
had to absolutely use a condom for his protection and for mine.  He
understood and I bought him two dozen.  It wasn't long before I was
buying more.

Mark became a frequent guest, spending more time at our apartment than at
home it seemed, and since Mark had his driver's license and a truck, he
and Brandon were always going somewhere when Mark wasn't working his
sacking job at Kroger's.  So, with the exception of when I saw Brandon in
the mornings, or when he came in at night, I didn't see him as much.

At least twice a week, most times on the weekend, Mark would spend the
night with Brandon. I must admit, the first couple of times were fairly
rough on me, since the two got a little loud with their lovemaking behind
Brandon's closed bedroom door.  Evidently, Brandon had learned a lot more
than I thought and was passing what he had learned on to Mark. However,
some gentle teasing from me, prompting some very deep blushes from both
Brandon and Mark, served to quiet things down to an acceptable level from
then on.

May came, and all hell almost broke loose when Mark and Brandon decided
that they wanted to go to Mark's junior-senior prom as each other's
date.  Evidently word was out that Brandon and Mark were an item among
the other students and that they intended to go to the prom together as a
couple.

As a result, I got a call from the school principal right away.  I told
him that legally the boys were in the right.  However, I assured him I
realized the issue had the potential to cause problems for all concerned.
So, I promised to talk with both Brandon and Mark and get back to him.

Fortunately, Brandon and Mark solved the problem themselves, by deciding
they didn't want to go to "the stupid old prom" anyway, and that was the
end of that, much to the relief of the school principal.

School let out for the summer and Brandon and Mark decided to go into
business together mowing yards.   I loaned them the money for the
equipment, which they repaid in a month, and both boys stayed busy Monday
through Friday mowing yards.

Naturally, I was busy at work during the week myself so sometimes, with
the exception of breakfast in the morning, Brandon and I rarely had time
to talk or interact as much.  When we did, the conversation usually
centered upon the latest letter from his mom or something about Mark.

Most Saturdays, weather permitting, the boys headed for the beach and
sometimes, at the insistence of both boys, I went with them.  It was on
one such occasion that I met Gerald.

To be continued