Date: Tue, 20 May 2008 21:07:53 -0300
From: Jonathan K <jkstoryteller@hotmail.com>
Subject: Take Good Care of My Boy

All rights reserved by the author. (c) 2008
Please send feedback. This is my first story.
There may or may not be a "part 2". It all depends on how this is received.

DISCLAIMER: The story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between
adult and underaged males. Do not read if it is illegal for you to do
so. This is a complete fiction. None of this is real or linked to any
actual events or persons, living or dead. If you can't tell the difference
between fantasy and reality, please stop reading now. Otherwise, enjoy.

"TAKE GOOD CARE OF MY BOY"
by Jonathan K

The woman sat quietly on the floor of the subway station with a paper cup
in front of her. There was nothing unusual about her except for the fact
that she had with her a small child of about ten or eleven years old. The
boy was sitting beside her with his head on her lap. He was apparently
asleep.

Here was something I had never encountered before. Of course I am aware
that child poverty is a real problem, but I felt like I was confronted with
it face-to-face for the first time, and I felt compelled to do something
about it. But what could I do? I had a little bit of change in my pocket, a
couple of dollars at the most. I would've gladly given it to them, but it
seemed like such an insignificant gesture. I gave the woman another look
and tried to imagine what her story must have been. What led her to this
position in life? Was she an illegal immigrant? Perhaps she had lost her
husband and didn't speak a word of English. I couldn't determine her
ethnicity just by looking at her. She had pale skin, but dark hair, as did
her son.

Only then did I notice that both were quite beautiful. And perhaps that, to
some extent, was what drew me to them. She noticed that I was staring at
her then, and seeing that I wasn't reaching for change in my pocket, she
gave me a vaguely suspicious look. She held her son close to her. Perhaps
she thought I would report her to the authorities and that they would take
him away from her. I decided to approach her and talk to her, though I had
no idea what to say to her. I hesitated for a moment and then said:

"Excuse me, do you have a safe place to stay with your son? Is there
anything I can do to help?" She stared at me without saying a word. She
seemed genuinely worried about me now. I wanted to convince her that I
didn't mean any harm, but wasn't sure how to go about it. "I'm sorry," I
said. "I don't want to scare you. I just feel bad when I see a homeless
child. I want to make sure you two are safe."

"He's not homeless," she said. I couldn't detect a foreign accent. "We have
a home."

"Good," I said. "I'm glad to hear it. But is there anything I can do to
help? Does he have enough to eat?"

"If you could spare a little bit of change, sir, that would help us a great
deal."

I fished around my pocket and emptied all the change from it in her paper
cup. It was a little more than I expected, probably closer to four
dollars. But it still felt like nothing.

"This is all the change I have on me," I said. I took out a pen and a piece
of paper from my coat pocket, wrote down my name and phone number, then
handed the piece of paper to her. "Here, you can call me if you're ever in
trouble. Please don't hesitate to call me, at any time." She made no move
to take the paper, so I dropped it in the cup with the coins.

Meanwhile, the boy was waking up. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, then
looked up at his mother, then at me. I smiled at him, but he didn't smile
back.

"What's your name?" I asked. He looked at his mother again.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir," said the mother. "We'll be fine. Thank
you."

"I mean it," I said. "Call me if you need anything. I swear I have no
sinister motive. I just want to help." My train was arriving, so I hurried
to catch it. When I looked back at them from the train, the mother was
picking up her things to leave. I figured I would probably never see or
hear from them again.

*

Two weeks later, on a Friday night around midnight, the phone rang. It took
me a while to understand who the frantic woman on the other end of the line
was. She said she needed my help and begged me to meet her downtown. I had
given her a promise, so I did.

The boy was with her. I couldn't make sense of what she was telling me. She
said some people wanted to hurt the boy. I offered to take them to the
police, but she refused. Not knowing what else to do, I called a taxi and
agreed to take them both back to my place.

The boy fell asleep during the taxi ride. When we got home, she carried him
inside, still asleep.

"Put him in my bed," I said. He'll be more comfortable there and he can get
some sleep while you talk. I want you to tell me everything from the
start."

I showed her to my bedroom and she sat him on the bed. He was half-awake by
now. She whispered something in his ear, then kissed him on the cheek. As
the boy began to undress, I was about to leave the room when she said,
"I'll leave you two alone."

"Wait--" I started, but she stopped me.

"No, you put him to bed. I'll wait in the living room." Then as she was
closing the door, she said, "Take all the time you need. It's okay."

And before I could say anything more, here I was, left alone in my bedroom
with a young boy sitting on my bed, slowly taking off his clothes. I
noticed that my heart was racing. I didn't understand what was
happening. Was this woman trying to pimp her son to me? Did she think that
was why I offered to help, that I expected sexual favours in return? The
thought had never even crossed my mind until then.

Then it occurred to me that maybe she was trying to set me up. "She'll say
I molested him and try to blackmail me for money," I thought. And if the
child lied, who would believe me? This was turning into a complete
disaster!

The boy was now down to his underwear, the rest of his clothes lying in a
pile on the floor. He looked up at me, motionless, as if waiting for
something. He looked so small and vulnerable sitting there in his white
underwear. I didn't know what to do. I noticed that I was shaking a little
and breathing heavily. I was taken aback by the boy's stunning beauty and a
sudden desire to touch his soft skin. I knew that I should get out of the
room right now. His mother was probably calling the cops at that very
moment. She would tell them that I threatened her and locked myself in my
room with her son. But even as these horrible thoughts were racing through
my head, somehow I knew that they were not true.

I walked up to the boy and put both my hands on his shoulders, letting them
slide over his skinny arms. He was still looking at me, not saying a
word. He didn't seem scared.

"You better get some sleep, kid," I said.

"Okay," he said, simply. Then he turned around and crawled across the bed,
giving me a perfect view of his cute little butt as he pulled the covers
back, then got under them. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I
noticed that I was hard and had been for some time, though I hadn't been
aware of this until now. I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Sleep well," I said. And for the first time, he smiled at me. The most
beautiful smile I'd ever seen. My heart melted and a rush of confusing
feelings came over me. I had to go talk to his mother and find out what
this was all about.

I returned to the living room, but the mother was nowhere to be found. I
checked the bathroom, then the kitchen, but she was gone. That's when I saw
the note she had left on the coffee table. I picked it up and read it:

"Please take good care of Damien. I have to leave the city for a few
days. I'll call you when things settle down. --Anna."

I put the note back on the table. I couldn't believe this was happening to
me. What kind of woman leaves her child behind with a complete stranger?
And under such bizarre circumstances? I looked at my watch and saw that
it's almost 3 a.m. I had to get some sleep. I didn't dare to go back into
my room. I was afraid of what would happen if I did. So I turned off the
lights and lied down on the couch, fully dressed. At first my mind just
spun around in circles as it tried to make sense of the events of the past
few hours. It seemed like I would never be able to fall asleep. I was
intensely aware of his presence in the room, just on the other side of the
wall. I could still feel the soft touch of his skin beneath my hands. I
felt like I had a fever.

And then without realizing it, I was asleep.

*

The next morning I woke up completely disoriented. Why was I on the couch?
What happened? The events of the night before quickly came back to me.
There was a brief moment of panic when I thought I might be late for work,
but then I remembered that it was Saturday. I looked at my watch and saw
that it was 8:35. The note was still on the coffee table from the night
before. I picked it up and read it again. Damien. So that was his name. I
wondered if he was still sleeping.

I got up, walked over to the bedroom and opened the door slowly. There he
was, lying on his side, asleep. He looked so tiny in the middle of my Queen
sized bed. I better take a shower before he wakes up, I thought.

In the shower, I went over the events of the previous night once more,
trying to make sense of it all. I was still slightly disturbed by the weird
insinuation that I detected in Anna's voice as she left the two of us alone
in the room. And my reaction to seeing the boy in his underwear... Where
did that come from? It was as if she planted a seed in my mind that
blossomed into all these perverted desires. Unless they were there all
along, but I just refused to acknowledge them. Weren't those the very
desires that made me give her my phone number in the first place? Perhaps
this woman saw something in me that even I didn't know was there. But if
that were the case, why would she then leave her son with me and leave
town? Most mothers would be horrified by such a thought, but she seemed to
think I would take good care of her son. And she was right, probably...

By this point, I was done washing up and I started absentmindedly rubbing
my dick as it slowly grew hard, thinking again about how smooth Damien's
skin had been when I touched it last night. And how fragile he'd felt
underneath my strong hands. So small, so smooth, so cute... I started
pumping my now rock-hard cock while I fantasized about Damien's soft
touch. I imagined what it would feel like to have his small hands wrapped
around my hard cock and the thought nearly brought me over the edge. I was
jerking off furiously, getting ready to cum, when all of a sudden I saw a
small hand push back the shower curtain slowly and Damien peek his head
into the shower.

"Good morning," he said, then his eyes widened as he noticed the hard cock
I was struggling to hide as best I could, while concentrating hard so as
not to come all over myself right in front of him.

"Good morning," I answer, my voice shaking with nervousness. "Damien, why
don't you wait for me in the kitchen? I'll be right out and make us some
breakfast, okay?"

He was still staring at my dick, which was now starting to soften as a
result of the shock. He just nodded and left. I rinsed off quickly, then
got out the shower, dried myself, then wrapped a towel around my waist and
headed to the bedroom to get dressed.

On my way to the bedroom, I noticed that Damien was still in his
underwear. He was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for me,
looking cute as hell.

"Don't you want to get dressed?" I asked, to which he just shrugged. As I
headed toward the bedroom, he got up off the chair and followed me. He came
into the bedroom with me and sat on the edge of the bed. I stood there with
the towel still wrapped around my waist, wondering if I should take it off
or ask him to leave the room so I could get dressed in private. I'm no
prude, but I'm not exactly used to having cute little boys watch me in the
nude. This was all new to me. And while I had managed to get rid of my hard
on before leaving the washroom, as I looked at Damien sitting on the bed in
his underwear, in the same position he'd been in the night before, I felt
myself starting to get hard again underneath the towel.

I sat down on the bed next to him and decided to talk to him and see how he
was doing, hoping that the conversation would help distract me from the
sight of his smooth skin and cute underwear. "How are you feeling, Damien?"
I asked.

"Okay," he said.

"Do you miss your mommy?"

"A little."

"Do you know why she left?"

"She said she had to go away for a few days. She'll be back soon."

"And you don't mind spending time with me in the meantime?"

"No, I like it here."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Mom said you were a kind man and I should do everything you say. She said
your name was Jason."

"That's right," I said. She told him to do everything I said. The possible
implications raced through my head again, making me dizzy. "Well, I'm glad
you're happy here," I said. "I want you to be comfortable."

"Thanks," he said. And then he gave me a hug. I was still wearing only a
towel and his flesh against mine felt really soft. I hugged him back and
again was amazed by how small and delicate he felt next to me. I kissed him
on the head and the smell of his hair was intoxicating. Again I felt those
deep urges rise within me, and this time I decided to give in to them.

I made Damien lie down on his back, then leaned over him and pressed my
face against his chest. I breathed deeply, taking in his smell. I started
rubbing my hands all over his body slowly, kissing his chest and nipples,
making my way up to his neck and face. I was getting extremely excited and
felt like I was losing control of myself, but I made sure to treat him as
gently as I could so as not to scare him.

I stopped for a moment and looked at him to see how he was reacting. Oddly
enough, he didn't seem freaked out by this turn of event. He just looked at
me and waited to see what I would do next. I could see his chest moving up
and down to the rhythm of his breathing. I put my hand on his stomach and
slid it down slowly, over his underwear and onto his crotch, observing his
reaction. Once my hand reached his little package, I squeezed it gently and
he gasped a little. I rubbed the palm of my hand over the small bulge in
his underwear several times and before long I felt his tiny little penis
get harder. I then put both hands beneath the waistband and pulled down. He
understood what I was doing and lifted his butt slightly, allowing me to
slide his underwear down his legs and remove them completely.

He was now completely naked before me and I took a moment to admire the
sight. He was absolutely perfect, laying there motionless, waiting
obediently for what I was going to do to him next. I noticed his breathing
was a little heavier and faster than normal. His little uncut cock was rock
hard, and when, after a moment, I placed my had over it again it pulsed
slightly. I started masturbating him slowly and he moaned slightly.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this before, Damien?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"How does it feel?"

"I don't know. I've never felt this way before."

"Do you like it?" as said, increasing the pressure on his dick, while
rubbing my left hand over his chest and stomach. He let out another moan of
pleasure as his answer. Inflicting these waves of pleasure to a beautiful
little boy who had never experienced anything like this before and watching
his expression as he abandoned himself to these new sensations, his eyes
now closed, was getting me more excited than I'd ever been in my life. My
own raging hard-on, trapped underneath the towel that I still had wrapped
around my waist, felt like it was going to burst. I took my hands off the
boy for a moment to remove the towel. He opened his eyes and looked at me
in surprise.

"Don't stop," he pleaded. "Please, continue."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not going to stop. Just making myself more
comfortable." Free from the towel and completely naked as he was, I lied
down on the bed next to him and went back to caressing his body. My pulsing
hard cock pressed against his leg, leaking precum all over it. With a
slight humping motion, I started rubbing my cock against his smooth leg,
the precum making it night and slippery. At the same time, I leaned over
him and started kissing him all over his chest and neck. Then I kissed him
on the mouth, and as I pressed my lips against his I pushed my tongue
inside his mouth. Meanwhile, my right hand continued pumping his perfect
little cock, causing him to squirm and moan as the pleasure took control of
his body.

All of a sudden, his body jerked and he screamed: "Stop! Stop, I'm going to
pee!" But instead of stopping, I tightened my grip on his cock and started
pumping it faster. His moans of pleasure became more intense and he seemed
to lose complete control of himself. Then I felt his cock spasm wildly in
my hand, as if it were ejaculating, but of course nothing came out. With
each spasm, he let out a load moan, "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" His dry orgasm lasted
for about 10 seconds, though it felt much longer to me and it must have
felt like an eternity to him. When it was over, I relaxed my grip on his
penis, knowing that it would be oversensitive for a little while, and went
back to caressing his chest and stomach.

Witnessing this sexy little boy be completely overwhelmed by the intensity
of his first dry orgasm was the hottest thing I could ever imagine and it
nearly brought me over the edge. I had been hard most of the morning and
had been teasing my cock since that interrupted jerk off session in the
shower, so I knew it wouldn't take much for me to blow my load - and it was
going to be a big one, too!

I was still rubbing my cock against his leg furiously, sending intense
waves of pleasure throughout my body. But I didn't want to cum just yet. I
remembered the thought that had nearly sent me over the edge earlier in the
shower, so I got on top of him, putting my legs on either side of his body,
and sort of sat down on his stomach, though I was careful not to crush his
delicate body underneath my weight, supporting myself with my legs
instead. I gave my cock a few strokes and watched him staring at it. Having
barely recovered from his first orgasm, his eyes widened as he looked at me
stroking myself above him. I have an average-sized cock, but to him it must
have seemed monstrously oversized.

I took his delicate small hands then and placed them over my cock.
Instinctively, he gripped it with both his hands and started stroking me.
My cock pulsed in his hands as his delicate touch seemed to send intense
waves of electricity through it, then running through my entire body. I let
out a long, loud moan.

"Oooooh. Oh, my God. Your hands feel so good on my cock! Oh, yes. Stroke
it. Oh, you're such a sexy little boy. Oh, fuck! Keep stroking it.
Faster. Faster!"

I was about to explode! I put both my hands over his and squeezed tightly,
edging him on with the pumping motion. Then my cock burst and started
squirting load after load of hot semen all over his body, the first two
jets landing right on his beautiful young face, then the next four on his
smooth chest. At that point, I let myself fall over him and pressed my cock
hard against his stomach, where I shot two more bursts of hot cum. This was
by far the most amazing orgasm I had ever experienced in my life.

I stayed on top of him for a minute, panting. His small hands were still
wrapped around my cock, which was slowly starting to soften. I readjusted
myself so that our we were almost face to face, my head just above his, and
I squeezed him tightly against my body, feeling the stick mess I had left
on his chest and belly between us, then I rolled over to the side so that
he would suffocate, still holding him closely against me. I kissed him on
the head.

"Thank you," I said. "That was wonderful. Let's rest for a minute, then
I'll get you cleaned up and cook you breakfast."

(To be continued... maybe)

jkstoryteller@hotmail.com