Date: Sun, 16 Sep 2001 23:10:17 +0000
From: Darren Talbot <davidtalbot50@hotmail.com>
Subject: gay male/adult youth/the library chapter two

The library, prt. 2

It was already promising to storm by eight that morning. I closed my
unbrella and shook it out as soon as I was up under the awning. The street,
always incredibly busy at qaurter to eight, was now completely dead. I
always liked it like this. The quiet.

I looked up as I put the key in the lock, catching my face in the glass as
I did. More and more like my father every day, and no way to stop it. I
smiled a bit, then my attention was drawn inside. There was
movement. Someone was moving around in my store.

I opened the door rapidly and stepped in, grabbing the bell above the door
to silence it. There was a quick rustle toward the back of the store.

"I have a gun! Come out where I can see you!" I yelled.

"Okay! Okay! Don't shoot!" Came back a girlishly sweet voice, and my heart
broke.

From behind the last bookshelf came Josh. Over the last two days and
incredibly long nights, I'd tried to forget that kiss, those fingers, his
breathing. In the fourty eight hours before that moment, I'd had maybe
three of sleep.

He was wearing only a pair of jeans, ratty and nothing else. His hair was
sticking up in odd places. His eyes were puffy and red around the
edges. And his fly wasn't zipped as of yet.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded

He didn't answer for a long, long minute, then "The back door was open." He
said, his head down.

I had been so flustered, I'd forgotten to lock it. I could clearly remember
feeling that I'd forgotten something as I locked up last night, but the
feeling had quickly passed, so I'd just walked out and left the back door,
the one from the alley to the little office I had back there,
open. Sometimes hindsight is more than twenty twenty.

"That still doesn't explain what you were doing here." I said, closing the
door behind me and stepping a bit closer to him.

As if suddenly noticing, he reached down and zipped his pants closed, then
looked back up at me as if he were about to apologize for being rude.

"It was raining last night." He said, as if it explained everything.

"And?" I asked, getting angrier.

"I had to get in out of the rain."

I stood there for another long minute, then he asked "Do you really have a
gun?"

"No. I just said that...actually, I have no idea why I said that."

He relaxed, letting his shoulders slump some. One of his hands actually
came up to rest on his chest, which is when I calmed down enough to notice
his milk white skin. His perfect, tiny pink nipples, the way his jeans
sagged just enough for me to see the indents around the tops of his
hip-bones. His waist was small enough that I could wrap just one of my arms
around him entirely. Skinny and pale, he was just standing there, touching
his chest with his hand. And I realized that I was gawking.

"Oh." was all he said.

I stepped behind the counter. I made a show of opening up the register and
looking at the ammount of money that I had inside.

"I'm not a thief." Josh said from somewhere. He'd moved back behind the
last bookshelf, again.

I walked quickly in that direction. When I came around the corner, I found
that he had a little blanket stretched out, and his shirt, shoes as well as
his socks were all piled neatly next to it. He had a green backpack, as
well, that looked as if it had seen much better days. Sitting on the
blanket, pages open and face down to about halfway through, was the book
he'd borrowed. He was sitting indian style on the blanket, looking up at
me.

He followed where my gaze had gone, saying "Oh, yeah. It's really good. He
writes just like someone talking to you."

I was still too taken aback. I had no idea why the boy was here, and I had
no idea what I was going to do with him now that he was.

"Are you going to call the cops?" Josh asked.

"No," I said, before I could think,"I'm not. I just want to know why it is
that you're here."

He patted the blanket, palm down, infront of him three times,
softly. Before I even realized what I was doing, I sat down, my legs
splayed out infront of me. His gaze landed on my shoes; white converse
hi-tops. I had worn a pair of the exact same kind of shoes since I was
fourteen. In a way, looking down at my shoes reminded me of Mort.

"Nice shoes," He said, reaching out and grabbing one, shaking it a little.

He could tell I was waiting, so he leaned back on his elbows, his lean
torso stretched backward before me. I felt myself start to become erect,
and was ashamed.

"It's my dad," he started, "He likes me, too."

I kept expecting him to say more, but when he didn't, the shock of what
he'd just revealed hit me like a gunshot.

"You mean he..." I started.

"Likes to fuck me? Yeah, I do," He cut me off, stretching out his legs. His
bare feet were now resting on my lap. They were soft and delicate, with
thier long arches and toes. His graceful ankles.

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry, Josh." I said, it feeling hollow before I even said
it.

"Yeah, well. I don't like him, but he's my dad."

"But...you should do something. Tell someone."

"Why?" He asked, and though I believed that his father had to be stopped, I
found that the simplicity of the answer was powerful.

"All they are going to do," he continued, "is ask me if I've slept with
other men."

I waited, but the curiosity had me on fire. I needed to know everything
about this boy. He flexed his feet some. His smell was coming off of the
blankets, and I was in danger of breaking the button off of my own jeans.

"And have you?" I asked when I couldn't take it any more.

Without wasting any time, he reached down and unsnapped the button on his
jeans. He sat up and pulled his zipper down with agonizing slowness. His
head was down, but he looked up at me from underneath his eyebrows and
grinned. With a quick motion of his hips, his jeans were off and he was
kneeling infront of me. He was perfect in every way...lithe, pale, and,
because of his youth and lack of hair, his penis seemed enormous. It was
already dripping, ready for love.

He reached out and touched my face with his hand, warm now, but still as
smooth as I remembered it. He tiled his head to the side, and then leaned
in to kiss me. As soon as he did that, I came alive in a way that I never
had, before. Up to that point in my life, I'd always played the passive
role: the man being loved, not the one doing the loving. But when his mouth
met mine, I put my hand behind his head and began to kiss him with passion
that I have not known either before that time, or since. I grabbed him by
his firm, pasty little ass cheek and pulled him to me. I forced his knees
apart, where he'd been kneeling, and moved myself onto him, slowly lowering
him onto his back. I worried for a microsecond that this might not be what
he wanted, irrationally. I was soon rewarded with his skinny, hairless
thighs wrapping themselves around my waist.

"Fuck me, Daniel. Fuck me hard." He whispered in my ear.

I unsnapped my jeans and let myself out. The air felt good and the lack of
confinement was better. And then I pushed his knees back onto his
shoulders, and pushed his ass up in the air, sucking on his toes as I
did. I put my knees up under his ass to prop him up, and then I began to
eat him, wildly. His moaning was at a fever pitch as I licked and then
sucked and then penetrated his ass with my tongue. I began to fuck him
slowly with my tongue while he played with himself.

"Please fuck me now, Daniel. Please?" He whispered.

So, with the front door still unlocked, on a blanket in the back of my
store, I lowered his ass back to the ground and pushed myself inside of
him. In remembering, I was too hasty, too caught in the moment. I was so
caught up, in fact, that I didn't worry about his feelings or how quickly I
did anything. I simply began fucking him like some possesed madman.

"Slap my ass, Daniel!" He said, and I did. Hard. SMACK! and then a rub, all
the while fucking him hard and fast. His beautiful white feet bouncing with
the power of my thrusts. And I could feel it, the most powerful pressure
I'd ever felt welling up in my center: I was going to cum.

"Cum in me, Daniel. Please come in me." He was begging, his eyes closed. He
was scraping the back of his head into the blanket to deal with the
overpowering sensation of me ramming myself, full length, into his tiny ass
again and again.

And, Just as I lost control of myself, and the universe made sense for an
all encompassing second, I saw his little toes flex backward and felt his
tiny hole contract as he shot spurt after spurt onto his own chest, one
flick even hitting his lips. And I kept pumping, even after I was done,
simply because I didn't want it to end. He licked the cum off his lips and
wrapped his legs tight around me in a sort-of hug. I stopped, sweat pouring
off of me.

I made as if to pull myself out of him, and he gripped tighter with his
legs, "Stay in me, please?" He asked, sweetly, his little eyebrows drawing
together in a pout.

So, I leaned down on my elbows and, still in him, kissed him sweetly on the
lips.

"Oh, Josh. I've never felt so..." I said, but he leaned up and kissed me
again.

"No talk. Talk just ruins it." He said, leaning back down, me still inside
him.

"Lay with me?" He asked.

"Well, I should go lock the door at least..." I said, starting to remove
myself. His face lowered into a pout, though.

"Let me go lock the door. I'll be right back, I swear." I said. I pulled on
my jeans and quickly locked the door, turning the sign around to
'closed'. I took the phone off the hook, and then went back into the office
to lock the door leading out to the alleyway. When I came back, he was
laying on his said, already bent into a spoon. I layed down with him, and
pulled him up to my chest. He breathed in once, then out in a heavy
sigh. Groggily, he said "I knew you'd come back."

"Why didn't you think I would?"

"Because most time, they don't." He said. And I layed there with him pulled
against me, naked and glorious. His smell was all around me, and his sleek
skin, warm to my fingertips.

"So, have you?"

"Have I what?" He asked me back, his eyes already closed, drifting.

"Slept with other men."

And his mouth pulled into a smile, as if remembering something long ago. He
said, "What do you think?"


-end chapter two-
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