From: FANCHAPHAW@news.delphi.com (FANCHAPHAW@DELPHI.COM)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: FAN CHA PHAW: THE JOGGER (man/boy)
Date: 26 Dec 1994 22:35:08 -0500
Organization: Delphi Internet Services Corporation
Lines: 108
Message-ID: <3do21c$1fd@news2.delphi.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: news2.delphi.com

FAN CHA PHAW PRESENTS:
 
FROM THE ARCHIVES:
 
"THE JOGGER"
 
 
This story is from the archives of Fan Cha Phaw. This story might 
have appeared previously on the net, or in other publications.
 
This is an adult fiction story, which consists of sex and sexual 
scenes between men and boys, and between boys and boys.
 
If this type of story offends you, or your community standards, 
exit now and do not continue reading.
 
If you are under the age of 18 (in the US), or under the age in your 
country to read such stories, exit now and do not continue reading.
 
Fan Cha Phaw does not condone the actions of the actors in this 
story. Fan Cha Phaw does not condone the breaking of any laws.
 
We can be reached at fanchaphaw@delphi.com
 
PLEASE REMEMBER that all repost requests, comments, and 
discussion belong on alt.sex.stories.d, and not on the discussion 
thread.
 
 
THE JOGGER
 
 
The late afternoon sun drifted lazily down into the western sea, 
drawing a fresh evening sky behind it on wings of a fresh breeze 
that whipped sand across the broad expanse of beach. Almost 
deserted now by all but the staunchest surfers, or the fitness freaks 
who would run bravely along the water's edge, their footprints 
washed away by the incomming tide, the popular beach seemed to 
lose some of its cosmopolitan flavour and become a lonely and 
brooding expanse; no man's land.
 
A few big kids still raced their skateboards against gravity on the 
skateboard ramp built up on the promenade. Further up, the shops 
that had served ice creams and Cokes during the day were still 
busy, though now it was the bohemian restaurants and cheap take-
aways that were feeding the evening trade. But the sand belonged 
to the lonely.
 
Which wan't why Stuart was there. He was one of the fitness 
freaks. Most afternoons he would spend at least an hour alternately 
swimming or jogging. Not that he was any Greek God; at 36 he 
was healthy and his paunch was still well under control, and that 
was all he wanted. His office job didn;t allow him much scope for 
exercise. Unless you counted coffee drinking and lunch breaks as 
exercise.
 
He reached one end of the beach and considered giving it up for 
the day. Just one more, he urged himself. You need it. Reluctantly 
he turned and headed back down the firm, wet sand.
 
At the other end of the becah he could make out one or two stray 
figures but they were too distant to make out clearly. In an 
impetuous challange he concentrated on them, betting with himself 
that if he could reach them before they left the sand he would allow 
himself an apple pie at McDonald's. Or maybe even a Hot Fudge 
Sundae.
 
One of the figures left. Now there was only one. Soon Stuart was 
halfway there. And more than halfway to realizing that it was a 
boy. Impulsively he changed his bet: if he should reach the boy 
before he left, Stuart would buy the boy a sundae.
 
Knowing that he'd never have the guts even to speak to a boy just 
like that-let alone trying to lure him to McDonald's (Stranger 
Danger! Child Molester!)- Sturat beganhoping fervently that the 
kid would leave before he got there. Mind you, he was also 
enjoying a distinct rush of adrenalin from wondering what would 
happen should he actually reach they boy.
 
The damn kid didn't go.
 
Sturat was about twenty feet from him when his brain went into a 
kind of seizure. He ran straight up to the boy and stopped, 
breathlessly.
 
"Hi," he said. The boy's eyes snapped up to him, startled. "You'll 
never guess what kind of bet I made with myself down the other 
end of the beach when I saw you here?"
 
"What?" asked the boy, bemused.
 
"I promised myself that I'd offer to take you to McDonald's for a 
sundae if you were still here when I got here...crazy, hey?"
 
The kid didn;t say anything. He just stood there, squinting up at 
the crazy man, who suddenly got embarassed.
 
"Well," Stuart began lamely, "I made the offer...I'd better go..."
 
He made to leave. He took a step back.
 
"Hey," said the kid, "what about my sundae?"
 
-The End-