Date: Fri, 21 Sep 2007 15:41:15 -0700 (PDT) From: Mark Adams <mark.stories@yahoo.com> Subject: Temptation of Adam - Chapter 8 Disclaimer ------------------------------------------------------------------------ This story is a work of fiction. It contains sexual content between underage and adult males which may be inappropriate or illegal where you live. I do not condone the actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story. If you are offended by this or if it is illegal where you live, please go no further. Why would you? ....and the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked... Gen. 3:7 ....From the last chapter... "So his mother has primary custody, then?" Miss nosy was back at it. "No," I said, enjoying the game. "Actually, I do." And my partner in crime nodded his head in agreement. "Then why don't you ever bring him to church with you," she asked. Oh shit! What the fuck? Temptation of Adam - Chapter 8 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ In my lust and pride, I hadn't even considered the implications of seeing someone I knew... or who knew me. I felt exposed, and guilty. "You go to my church?" I asked, my voice somewhat shaky. "Yes," she said. "Don't you remember me? Karen? Karen Cooper?" I searched my memory banks, drawing nothing at all. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm terrible about that sometimes, and it's such a big church." "I know," she said, obviously a little perturbed I didn't recognize her. "Remember the Boy Scouts' Fall pumpkin sale?" Geez, that was 7 months ago, lady! "Remember now?" She must have thought she was more memorable than she was because I still had no recollection. But that wasn't really the point now. A member of my church was sitting across from me and my would-be child lover. Albuquerque wasn't a very small town, with well over half a million people in the metro area, so it wasn't an every day occurrence to run in to people I knew. "Sure," I lied. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Ok. I think I remember now." "Yes," she said, her self-esteem improving with my recognition. "The church's Brownie troop was helping out and I'm one of the leaders." Seems like her ego wouldn't allow her to realize I wasn't interested in her. Good. "We go to the same church." "Of course," I said. "That's right." Get me out of here now! "Well," I said. Time to backtrack big time... "Adam and I were playing a game, Karen. I apologize. He's my nephew, in from out of town. He wanted to pretend we were father and son." She looked beguiled and a little miffed, but it was better than the truth by a mile. "I'm sorry." Little Kara smiled and laughed, understanding the game perfectly. Adam was laughing along, too, perhaps because I was adding yet another lie. He didn't seem bothered that I'd just made this lie his own. But Karen didn't seem to appreciate this sort of game. She smiled wanly. "I understand," she said, still a bad liar. Perhaps Adam and I could teach her some tricks? Or, given our recent attempt, perhaps not. "Very cute. You're very good with children..." and I felt she left that sentence hanging. I was involved in Scouts and the church's youth group and she saw me with a strange child, atop my lap, with his hands under him. In my lap. I prayed for divine intervention and, at that moment, the hostess called my name to be seated. There is a God! "That's us," I said, perhaps a bit too eagerly, as I lifted Adam off my lap and he took my hand. There was no chance of any erection showing at this point. My penis was probably inverted. "Will we see you in church tomorrow?" she asked as I tried to escape. Fat fucking chance was my initial thought, but then I had to think this through. "Probably," I said, noncommittally. "We'll see you around, though." I smiled and waved to them. Or waved them off. Probably the latter. My heart was beating harder and my palm, encased in Adam's, was sweating. I swung him around in front of me, holding him close by his shoulders, his back to me as we followed our hostess to a table. Fortunately, it was a booth in the darkened back corner, away from prying eyes, away from any windows. I felt like everyone in the restaurant knew my intentions. What were my intentions? I scooted Adam into the booth and sat next to him. I put my left arm around his shoulders and turned toward him, maybe hugging him and maybe hiding him behind my bulk. "What's wrong?" Adam asked me, a very curious look on his face. He seemed to have no idea. "Nothing, buddy," I said, not wanting to worry him. But not wanting to lie to him, either, I added, "We just need to be a little more careful, ok?" He nodded to me, knowing what I was saying was serious, but not necessarily knowing why. "Ok. We'll talk about it more when we're done here, ok?" He nodded again. The waitress came to take our drink order. "I'll just have water," Adam told her. "Is that what you really want?" I asked him, and the waitress seemed a little bugged about being held up. Screw her. "Don't you want a soda, or tea, or something?" "Umm," he said, thinking. "Ok. I'll have a coke?" The waitress scribbled it down on her pad. "I'll have an iced tea, please. No lemon." She wrote that down, too, taking longer than I think it should have taken, and then departed. I needed to take a breath. Just then, I felt a little hand snake across my thigh under the tablecloth, climbing up toward my crotch like a spider and I tensed up a bit. Adam giggled as he rested his left hand on my pants between my thigh and my balls. "You're *very* warm there," Adam observed, seemingly amazed. "I know, but you can't do that here!" I hissed. "Nobody can see," he informed me as he wiggled his fingers, causing my dick to swell in my pants. I groaned, not knowing if I should allow him to continue, or at least telling myself I didn't. I felt a finger rub against my swelling member while he kept the rest of his fingers where they were. "Oh, Adam, you've got to stop." He removed his hand and pulled it back to his lap as the waitress returned with our drinks. She placed them on the table and asked for our order. "We need a few more minutes, please," I said as I made sure the tablecloth was covering my groin. "Ok," she said and turned around again, oblivious to the happenings under the table. She was too concerned about us wasting her time to notice. I looked over at Adam and my eyes dropped to his lap as I noticed movement. He pulled the tablecloth forward a little when he saw me looking, and I could see his wienie sticking through the fly of his jeans. Just as I started to say something, he placed his index and middle finger on either side of his shaft, palm down, and drew his hand toward his lap, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his little knob. He continued pressing down so his jeans were flush against his lap, accentuating the length of his already oversized penis. I couldn't see all that much in the lighting, but I could see his little pee slit and his skin bunched up behind the seemingly shiny, moist head of his glorious toy. It seemed humongous on his tiny body. "Adam," I whispered loudly, reaching over and pulling the tablecloth back over his lap. As I did so, he seized my hand and drew it up slowly over his rod. If he thought my crotch was warm, his was burning to the touch. I made a mental note that my vow was now over. He hadn't asked me to cross the line, he'd reached over and pulled me across. I glanced around us and saw that nobody could see into the booth. I also didn't see Karen or Kara anywhere around. I wanted to release his weenie. Or at least that's the way I'm telling the story. Instead, my thumb and three fingers wrapped around his shaft like a serpent coiling about its prey, and I ran my index finger across the top of his head. It felt smooth and slightly moist. Is it possible this boy, like me, could ejaculate at the tender age of ten? From everything I'd heard or read, I was an anomaly but I also knew it was at least possible... I dug my other fingers down into the hole made by his open fly and I felt the band of his underwear, pulled down his silky smooth thighs, and his tiny testes as they rolled in their satin purse. I snapped back to reality as I saw the waitress approaching from across the room, order pad in hand. I extracted by hand begrudgingly, pulling the table covering back over my little friend and lifted my menu as if weighing my options. I double-checked to make sure nothing was showing in our laps, and returned my gaze to the menu. "Do you like enchiladas, Adam?" I queried. "I'm Mexican, silly," he joked as he rustled around, most likely zipping up his pants. I chuckled. I ordered for both of us, Adam opting, as did I, for green chile over red. When the waitress asked if he wanted the children's meal, I looked at him, raising my brows. "Yes, please," Adam said sweetly, like an innocent child. After the waitress left with our order, I sneakily lifted the fingers of my left hand to my face, making it appear as though I was resting my chin in my hand, my fingers extending to my nose and sniffed. I could smell the mildly pungent smell they'd acquired from their voyage across Adam's moist knob. The smell was really indescribable, and it filled my nostrils with the scent of him and my mind with passion. I turned toward him in the booth. "Adam, Adam, Adam," I said. "You naughty boy." We were both grinning like little kids. Of course, one of us did a better job than the other. "Can... May I sit in your lap?" he implored. "Buddy," I replied, "you need to know there's a time and a place for everything." I didn't want him to feel bad, I just needed him to know we were not in our own little world, even though it felt like it at times. "I'm sorry, Mark," he said, but he didn't look like it to me at all. "I know, Adam," I told him, not believing it. "Have you played around like this before?" I asked, not sure the answer made a difference, but curious nonetheless. "No," he said and he looked genuinely hurt by my question. "Never. I just thought you..." He didn't finish his sentence. "You thought I what?" I was hoping he didn't say he thought *I* wanted him to do that, even though I most definitely did. "I thought," he said, pondering his words. "I just thought you would want to do that with me." "Is that what you wanted?" I asked. The answer had serious ramifications. "Of course," he said, as if confused by my question. His face acted as a question mark. "Why would you ask that?" "It's important, Adam, because it would kill me to know I was forcing you to do something you didn't want to do." He nodded in understanding and said, "I'm small. I know that." I knew in some ways that was not true, but I let that joke pass because he seemed like he had something he really wanted to say. "But I'm not a baby, Mark." I agreed and he continued. "I know what I'm doing and I want to do it." "Ok," was all I said. "I also know we could get in a lot of trouble. Well, you more than me. I know that." He took a sip of his coke, placing his right hand on my left knee before continuing his soliloquy. "I also know that something about me scares you." "No," I started, but he shook his head. "Maybe not scared of me, but it's still about me," he said. "I don't want you to be scared, Mark. I *need* you not to be scared when you're with me. I need you not to pull away from me. Because," he said with a pause. "Well, because the only thing that scares me about you is seeing you afraid." He rubbed my knee with his longish thumb, looking down toward the seat. I was amazed at this boy's use of words. His insight was incredible, even though he was not quite 11 years old. Just who the grownup was here was in question, at least for me. And he was telling me it needed to be me. And he was giving me permission to be me. Wow... "Adam," I said, fearful my words could never be as eloquent as his, "you never cease to amaze me." I put my left hand atop his right hand on my knee. "I guess I've not given you credit for being as intelligent, or as wise as you are. And I treated you like," I thought about my words, "...I guess like a child." Neither of us chuckled. "For that I apologize. And I promise I will never second guess you. But I need you to promise to let me know if you ever feel strange, or if I've made you feel bad." "Oh," he replied. "I promise you'll know." Now he laughed, and I laughed along with him, the tension now gone from our booth. I put my around around him again and he leaned into me, his fresh hair beneath my chin. He pulled away from me slightly, looking up. "And when we get back to your house, this better not be some pajama party," he said slyly. "Cuz you got me tons of undies, but you didn't buy me any jammies," he added with a wink. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To be continued... ------------------------------------------------------------------------