Date: Sun, 9 Dec 2012 13:26:51 -0500
From: wild wing <wildwing66@hotmail.com>
Subject: Duck Pond Boy  -  C1

Preamble:  My apologies to all those who read my last story.  It remains
unfinished.  My only excuse is that I was sick for several months.  When
I recovered the interest in the tale was gone.  I will finish it one day.

This short story is a reprint from another web site.  It is complete and
a new chapter should appear every few days.  Their are graphic
descriptions of mainly consensual sex between an adult male and an
underage boy.  You have been warned.  This is a work of fiction and the
author does not condone such acts in real life.

This tale is another one of my love stories.  Let me know what you
think.  Remember your emails are the fuel that keep my creative juices
stirring.  I will always respond.  Enjoy!

			     THE DUCK POND BOY

Chapter One

He was seated on the grass by the duck pond when I first saw him.  A
flock of Muscovy ducks were jockeying for position in front of him. He
casually tossed in a morsel of bread amongst the birds.  The bread
disappeared in a flurry of feathers.

As I skirted the pond, a towel draped over my shoulder, I found myself
drawn to the boy like a bee to a brilliant flower. Stopping just a few
feet away I watched as he drew out yet another piece of bread from an old
paper bag.  He threw it to an old isolated duck that appeared to have
been shoved to one side by the younger ones.

It seemed that his long blond hair hadn't seen a comb in some time.  His
nose was fine and his eyes were sparkling. The boy wore a grubby blue
t-shirt advertising some nondescript bar.  The shirt, probably a size too
large, hung loosely partly covering a pair of bright green satin shorts.
His lithe hairless legs stretched out before him.  He wore no socks and
his running shoes had seen better days. No matter, I still had the
distinct impression that the boy was an angel sent to us by some higher
power to beautify the earth.

He carried on seemingly unaware of my presence.  As another crumb landed
among the waterfowl I muttered, "Boy you're pretty popular aren't you?"

He continued to stare forward as he replied, "No I'm not!"

"Well it seems to me that you have the rapt attention of an awful lot of
ducks."

Now realizing my intended meaning he responded, "Oh them......Yeah, I
like feeding them."

Trying to be friendly I added, "I haven't noticed you before. What lot
are you staying on?"

He ignored my question and continued to concentrate on the ducks.  I
figured he was either shy or very careful talking to strangers. "Oh I'm
sorry," I remarked, "I guess I shouldn't have asked you where you are
camped out."

The boy turned his head for the first time and smiled.  He smiled with
his eyes as well as his mouth.  His cheeks were dimpled and his lips were
full.  I was dazzled.

"That's okay," he murmured, "I get lonely.  Sometimes I come here early
in the morning to feed the ducks."

"Nothing wrong with that," I observed, "I'm sure the ducks appreciate
it."

With that I excused myself and headed for the showers.  Fifty feet later
I instinctively looked back and sure enough he was staring at me.  I gave
him a friendly wave and he immediately returned it.   I entered the male
side of the facility assuming the boy was out of my life forever.

The building was a long narrow affair.  Beyond the sinks, urinals and
toilets, the corridor continued.  There were three shower cubicles each
protected by a cheap plastic flower curtain.  Against the wall opposite
the cubicles was a long slatted wooden bench.

I reached in and adjusted the taps to the required temperature and
volume.  Shucking my clothes I jumped in.  As I luxuriated under the
pulsing torrents I began to reminisce as to how I had arrived  at this RV
park.

My business partner and former high school lover and I had developed an
extremely successful investment company.  We catered almost exclusively
to the upwardly mobile segment of the gay community in New York City and
environs.  We had done so well in fact that Jerry and I planned for an
early retirement.  We purchased a luxury RV and talked about touring the
continent.  Alas it was not to be.  Jerry, my heart and soul, was
diagnosed with a particularly virulent form of cancer.  He suffered a
painful death just six months later.  It was horrible.

I was devastated to the point of a near breakdown.  Knowing the firm was
in good hands I chose to take a six month leave of absence, maybe more.
With no plans and even less ambition I found myself packing the RV one
day.  I chose the lesser travelled routes and meandered aimlessly in a
southerly direction.  When I got tired I pulled into the first RV park I
saw.  I stayed a night.  If I liked it I stayed a week.  It mattered not.

So it was I had arrived in a small park in Florida.  It was attractive
enough with its palm trees, manicured grass, and flowerbeds.  I guessed
that it had originally been built in the country but now the city had
swallowed it up.  The owners had built a high brick wall around it to
give the allusion of still being in the country.  The upside of the all
pervasive city was a large mall  just down the street. It provided
everything I needed.  I liked the park and had decided to stay a week.

I stepped from the cubicle reaching for my towel.  In doing so I turned
my  head and was surprised to see the duck pond boy leaning against the
wall opposite the urinals.

"Oh hi," I called out, "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."  As I
spoke I quickly tucked the towel about me making sure I was suitably
covered.

"I...I...I needed to take a pee," he stuttered.

I smiled at him.  "That's okay.  We all need to do that once in a while."

I surmised immediately that he wasn't there just to take a pee.  He had
already admitted he was lonely.  Perhaps he was looking for a friend and
hoping that I could at least partially fill the void.  On the other hand
he could be gay and a voyeur to boot.  His position against the wall
suggested as much.  Even though I was in my early forties I worked out
regularly and I knew I cut a reasonable enough figure.

I was not sexually aroused by this boy, at least I didn't think I was.
Since my organ was reasonably limp why not give him a show.  It would do
no harm.  I raised the towel to my chest and began to dry myself.  The
boys eyes immediately drifted downwards and locked onto my privates.  His
mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened.

Jerry had always kidded me that my cock was the most handsome part of
me.  He often said that if I ever wanted to rent it out by the inch they
would be lined up around the block for it and there would still be some
left over for others.

I moved the towel to my head and rubbed vigorously.  Between the rapidly
oscillating sides of the towel I watched him continue to stare.  He
reminded me of an art gallery owner moving his eyes up and down as if
examining a particularly fine piece of art.  He made no attempt at being
discreet.  In fact he crept a little closer and my organ was now
beginning to respond to the admiration it was receiving.  It was time to
turn my back or at least cover up.  The boy solved my problem for me.

"I....I guess I better go now," he gulped.

"All right," I grinned, "But if you ever come around again be sure to say
hello. I'd love to talk to you some more."

His gaze finally lifted and we made eye contact.  He dazzled me with
another smile and responded,  "Yeah, I'd like that."

Within seconds he vanished.  I wondered a few moments about the boy's
circumstances and then dismissed the thoughts.  No doubt by tomorrow
morning his parents will have pulled up stakes and left the camp ground.
He will have driven out of my life forever.