Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2008 00:50:36 -0400
From: chris james <drmeta4@gmail.com>
Subject: The Trees Have Eyes- 2

Dear Reader: this is an adult tale, a fictional account and yet if you are
under the age of 18 you are not permitted here.

	A small tale of obsession. The characters are all fictional, but we
can dream. My newspaper is delivered by an elderly woman who tosses it from
her car window on the end of my driveway. It's so impersonal, but then so
is the news. Your comments welcome.

	drmeta4@gmail.com

		       The Trees Have Eyes-2 (M/B)

		       (More adventures with Dusty)

	I slammed my return back across the net, tipping the inside foul
line and scoring the point. Mr. Fowler, my tennis coach, ran up to the net
with his tongue hanging out. He was a pretty nice guy, just a little out of
shape to be playing with high school boys.

	I was also pretty sure tennis wasn't the only game Fowler wanted to
play. The buzz around the locker room was that he had come on to several
boys on the senior team last year. I suppose tennis jocks were a little
more liberal than say, the football team. Fowler would have gotten his ass
kicked if he'd pursued a footballer. Maybe he had considered that and
chosen tennis as a safer playground. Either way, I wasn't interested in
him, but he sure was in me.

	With practice matches over, the team walked back to the locker
room. A dozen boys, each with their own style and grace. I knew that Steve
Parks was gay, why didn't Fowler check him out? Not that Parks and I have
ever done anything but it takes one to know one.

      The team showers after a practice and Fowler is right in there with
us. He always stands down at the end of the shower room where he can watch
the cocks swing. He's discreet but I know his eyes are on me. Parks is like
that too, only he always manages to stand next to me so he can eyeball my
crotch.

	I still have blonde hair to my shoulders, its been that way since
seventh grade. Parks has made several comments about how it must be so hard
to manage. Shit, I imagine he would just love to run his fingers through
it. I like Parks but I won't go out with him. No, there is only one guy I'd
ever let ravish my sweet little ass?and he doesn't seem to know I exist.

	John Stuart, I can never get enough of saying that man's name. He
is probably about thirty-two years old and the handsomest man I know. I've
been watching him from afar for several years now. OK, I've been spying on
him.

	He has been my recurring fantasy during endless bouts of
masturbation. I imagine him kissing me with his sweet lips as I run my
fingers through his dark wavy hair. Staring up into his deep green eyes, my
legs wrapped around his waist as he plunges his long cock up my boyish
ass. Dreams, nothing but fantasies guaranteed to make me blow my wad every
time.

	The reality of it was that I still deliver his morning paper. My
favorite moments with him have occurred on Saturday mornings when he isn't
working. I sit on my bike and watch him wash his pickup truck. He likes to
wear these skimpy little cutoff shorts that show off his tight buns. Oh,
his ass is to die for. As he runs a soapy rag down the side panels I stare
at his shirtless torso and that incredibly beautiful ass, the whole time my
stiff cock presses into the folds of my newspaper bag.

	Oh, it isn't like I didn't know the most intimate details about the
man. I've watched him screw his lover a dozen times or so. For two years
I've climbed the tree behind his house and watched through the window as
John plowed his boyfriend a new asshole. Oh yeah, I know a whole lot about
John and so far it has gotten me absolutely nowhere.

	My fantasies about doing away with his lover have come to
naught. The guy's name is actually Brian. I suppose that short of murder I
have no clue how to unseat Brian and slide into his place. I've even
stopped climbing the tree and watching them make love, it's just too
torturous? Besides I took lots of video during the early months of my
observations.

	All right, I guess this sounds like I am stalking the man, but I'm
not. I took the videos so I could study his methods of lovemaking. John is
truly awesome in bed, he can fuck forever without busting a nut. But all
this talk of John is giving me a stiffie and I have to hit the showers with
two perverts watching my every move.

	Fowler passed out the towels and retreated to his office to
undress.  For some reason Parks wasn't around either as I moved towards my
locker. A small piece of folded paper lay on the floor next to Parks'
locker, so I stooped to pick it up. It's a piece of lined notebook paper
and I begin to read the words written in purple crayon.

	" I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. The curve of your
neck, the shape of your thighs, the perfection of your beautiful cock. Meet
me, ten o'clock on Saturday morning at the bell tower outside the
mall. Love,S."

	Shit, I looked around but the other guys were undressing, seemingly
unaware of the bombshell I held in my hands. S...who? Damn, was it Samuel
Fowler? Where was Parks anyway?

	I stuffed the note in my pants pocket and stripped for the
shower. Once under the hot spray I started thinking. It couldn't be Fowler,
that would be insane. Leaving a love note to a student might cost him his
job. But had it been for Parks or me?

	One by one the team finished showering, dressed and left the locker
room. I was the last one out and still no sign of Parks or Fowler. I
glanced at the office door as I left, it was firmly shut. I was halfway to
the parking lot before I remembered it was Friday and I needed to wash my
uniform.

	I descended the stairs to the locker room doors only to find that
they were now locked. I put my ear to the crack and heard the distinct
sound of water running in the showers, something odd was going on here. I
hurried down the hall to the laundry room and pushed open the small
hatchway to the towel room. It was a tight fit but I wriggled through and
landed in a bin of wet towels.

	Cracking open the door to the locker room I heard someone giggle
down the hall in the showers. I knew that voice, it was Parks. I hugged the
wall and slowly approached the entrance to the showers. Somewhere I
remembered that if you didn't want to be seen looking around a corner that
you had to lie on the floor. Lying on my chest I scooted my body forward
until I could peek around the corner.

	Parks was naked and draped across a wooden chair under the spray of
a dozen showerheads. His round little bottom was in the air while Fowler
was on his knees and very busy eating that little asshole for all he was
worth. Holy shit, look at the size of that man's cock.

	Parks moaned loudly as Fowler stopped licking his butt hole and
stood to insert his huge cock up the boy's ass. How the hell was he going
to fit that thing into Parks? From where I lay I could see Fowlers butt
cheeks tighten as he pushed into Parks' ass, his huge balls swinging back
and forth.

	Parks gasped and looked like he was trying to pull away but Fowler
held onto the boy's slender hips and drove himself in to the hilt. Parks
cried out that it hurt but Fowler reached a hand around and began jerking
the boy's cock.

	Parks began to moan but I couldn't tell if it was from pain or
pleasure. That big cock was steadily pumping up his butt, better him than
me. Suddenly Fowler pulled out and I saw his cock begin to spray his spermy
juices all over the boy's back and get washed away down the drain.

	Parks groaned with delight as the coach's hand kept up the steady
pull on his cock bringing the boy to a blasting orgasm. My cock was about
ready to blow but I knew it was time to duck out before they discovered
me. I stopped in the towel room just long enough to pump my load into the
wet towel hamper before climbing back through the hatchway.

	On the drive home it occurred to me that these two had probably
been developing this for a while. If this was true then they had been very
careful about it. Damn, I was envious. Hell, I even knew they were going to
meet the following morning. I wondered where they would go to have sex
again?

	Sitting at the dining room table with my folks and my two younger
sisters I kept having flashbacks of that shower room scene. I went to bed
early and played back my favorite video of John and his lover going at it,
comparing it to the shower scene. I wanted to know what it was like to have
a big cock up my ass and so far all my plans had been frustrated.

	I looked at the note again. Why couldn't someone have written this
to me? And what if I had received something like this out of the blue?
Would I have gone to the rendezvous? Maybe I would but I sure would be
scared, what if it was all a cruel joke? Hell, I didn't even know anyone I
could talk to about this?

	Then the thought hit me like a ton of bricks. I did know someone
and his name was John Stuart. Of course, this was the perfect way to tell
him I was gay and see how he reacted. But what of Brian, he would probably
be jealous of some young gay kid coming out to his lover, I know I would.

	But I had to try. This infatuation had been going on too damn long
without results. If John rejected me then I would have to dump the whole
thing and find another man.

	I watched John's face and body on the television screen. No, it had
to work, he was just so perfect. The picture jumped around a little and for
the umpteenth time I realized that the tree had been shaking as I
masturbated to the scene of John and Brian screwing. Pretty soon I hoped
this would all be history, John would be plowing my asshole instead. I
ended my night with an eight inch dildo up my ass and a towel soaked in my
cum. I was one frustrated little boy.

	My alarm went off at four-thirty, giving me time for a quick shower
before cycling down to the corner to pick up my newspapers for
delivery. The folded note was burning a hole in my pocket but I kept a slow
pace on my route, no sense in finishing before John as up and about.

	I wheeled through the townhouse development so I could get a
glimpse of John's place. I noticed that Brian's car was gone and that put a
smile on my face. I hung out at the top of the court where I could see
John's pickup parked in its slot. Where was he? It was just before eight,
time for John to wash his truck...but no John. Oh God, what if he had left
with Brian? I had to find out.

	My knees shook a little as I walked up to his door and rang the
bell, too late to back out now. There was only silence from inside. Shit,he
was gone. I turned to walk away when I heard the deadbolt snap on the
door. John peered out and shook the sleep from his eyes. I had awakened
him.

	"Oh,hello, Dusty," he said," What time is it?"

	"Oh,uh, I'm sorry Mr. Stuart, it's eight o'clock."

	"Stayed up too late last night. I'm sorry, come on in."

	John turned away from the door and I noticed that he was clad only
in a pair of blue boxers. I watched his tight ass as he lead me into the
kitchen were he plopped down at the table.

	"I didn't mean to wake you, Mr. Stuart," I began.

	"It's ok. I overslept, want some coffee?"

	"Uhh, sure, can I make it for you?" I asked.

	"Yeah,that would be nice. The coffee is on the counter and the
filters are in that little cupboard beside the refrigerator. Thank you,
kiddo, it's been a bad week for me."

	I busied myself with making the coffee and wondered what he meant
by a bad week, I didn't dare ask. Maybe this wouldn't be a good time to
show him the note and play my little seduction game.

	But with a cup of coffee in front of him, John seemed to come
alive. I sat across from him and studied his face covered with a few days
stubble. He needed a shave and a shower real bad. Not that I found his odor
unappealing, to the contrary. In his present state I found that I just
wanted to lick his nipples and slurp up the sweat from his armpits. God, he
was turning me on.

	"So, Dusty, what brings you here this morning, am I late on my
payments?"

	"Oh no, sir...I just..."

	Oh shit, I was losing my courage, this wasn't going to work. But
somehow I had the note in my hand and I unfolded it and handed it across
the table. John looked down at the paper, his eyes traversing the lines of
printed crayon and then he looked up at me.

	  "My, my, this girl sure seems to have a thing for
you. Congratulations," John said. He smiled at me and handed back the
note. The ball was coming over the net at me, I had to return it with
style.

	"Uh, see?it's not a girl, it's a guy. And, uh, I don't know what to
do," I stammered.

	"A guy?" John said, "Now that's unusual."

	He stared at me, the silence hanging around us like a shroud, then
he smiled.

	"So why are you showing this to me, Dusty?"

	"Well, I think...see, I know this guy and I'm not interested in
him."

	John sipped his coffee slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Oh man,
say something, help me out here I wanted to scream. He set the cup down on
the table and leaned back in his chair.

	"All right, let's stop playing games, shall we?" John said. "You
obviously know I'm gay and you think I might be able to help you, is that
where this is going?"

	"Yes," I gasped, we were making progress.

	"Or maybe I've been wrong about the charming lad who delivers my
paper every morning. Maybe the paper boy has been checking me out for some
time and finally found an excuse to walk into my life."

	"Uh, yes...maybe," I murmured.

	"I see. Well you sure chose an interesting time to do it," John
said. "I'm flattered, Dusty, I really am. But it seems you've come at the
wrong time. My boyfriend for the past four years just packed his bags and
left me this week. Gone off to the big city to discover himself he
said. Personally, I think he's just gone away to play the slut and will
come crawling back in a few months."

	"And will you take him back?" I asked.

	"Would you?" John replied. "No, I think Brian needs to see what
happens to the unfaithful in this day and age...they get shunned. I won't
have him back, he may be infected by then and I'm not going to risk my own
life for a slut."

	"Didn't you love him?" I asked.

	John stared at me and I began to see tears form in his eyes. I was
sorry to have asked at all.

	"I suppose I did, we shared a lot more than the bedroom. But he
must have needed something I couldn't give him. I'm sorry, Dusty, we
shouldn't be talking about this."

	"I...I love you, John," I said.

	He smiled. "And how many men have you said that to?"

	"None, honest," I said. "I've been looking at you since I was in
ninth grade. There have been no others."

	"Oh, I guess I should feel honored. But, Dusty, you need a
relationship with a boy your own age. You need to discover the wonders of
love slowly and explore the feelings for yourself. Young guys with older
men never seems to work out these days, we have so little in common. Hell,
look at me, I'm a mess right now."

	"I don't care. I think you're wonderful just the way you are, the
handsomest man I know."

	"And so I guess you're the one who's been leaving me those presents
under my windshield wipers?"

	I blushed at the mention of my small tokens of affection. I'd
forgotten about leaving him those little plastic bags of my ejaculate to
ponder over every time I spied upon his lovemaking. Damn, he must think I'm
a fool.

	"I think it was sweet, although maybe a little reckless," John
said.

	"I'm sorry, maybe I should just go."

	"No, why don't you stay and have breakfast with me," John
said. "Besides, we haven't settled the issue of this note you showed me."

	"I'm sorry about that too. It's a fake, it wasn't meant for me at
all."

	While he made us some French toast, I told John all about Parks and
Fowler. We laughed at the image of the shower room sex and the secret
relationship that these two had to maintain. If only John would accept me
ours wouldn't have to be secret at all, I had been legal now for two
months.

	I carried the dishes to the sink and rinsed them off. John put his
arm on my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. I turned to him and hugged
his bare chest.

	"I could be real good for you right now," I said. "Won't you even
give me a chance?"

	"And why would you take a chance with me?" he asked. "It seems we
both need to know a lot more about each other before saying yes to anything
serious."

	"I'll wait however long it takes, it can't be any worse than all
the waiting I've already done," I said.

	Part of me was heartbroken that this wasn't going to happen right
now, but I finally had hope, someday it just might. John leaned over and
kissed my lips, I clutched him tighter still. The kiss was meant to be
brief but he lingered, savoring the feelings he had so recently lost. My
head became dizzy with excitement and my cock rose to the occasion.

	I could feel John's hardness pressing against me, he had to feel me
pressing back. He pushed on my shoulders and we stood apart. He glanced
down at the bulge in my shorts and I stared at his face, not daring to look
down at his boxers. I hungered to see his cock sticking out at me, but I
didn't dare. John swallowed hard.

	"I suppose that must cause you some pain. Oh, man, Dusty. You're
such a beautiful boy, I can't help myself."

	"Then don't say no, take me to bed and fuck me, John. Please."

	I could see the leaves in the tree outside the window of his
bedroom. The dream had finally come true; I was here with the man I had
worshiped for so very long. I felt his hands caress my bare thighs and
reach under to lift my bottom off the bedcovers. His lips met my stomach
and he kissed me tenderly before taking my cock in his mouth.

	The warmth of his tongue brought shudders of delight as he swept it
down my shaft and engulfed me whole. I had wanted to ravage him but John
had denied me that, telling me that he wanted to prove what loving him
would mean. I couldn't tell him I already had all his most intimate secrets
stored on videotape hidden away in my closet wall. I let my mind blank out
those images. I wanted to feel them as if each precious touch was a new and
unknown quantity.

	His mouth encased my balls and he lifted me higher, spreading my
legs and rasping his tongue across my virgin hole. Oh yes, I had never
given it to anyone and now it was his for the asking. My mind reveled at
the thought of the pain his intrusion would cause, I trembled in
anticipation.

	John's tongue pushed against that soft yielding flesh and plunged
into me. The sensation was electric, firing the ends of every nerve in my
rectum. He was preparing me...I was going to get fucked.

	I opened myself to him and John's tongue was replaced by the tip of
his cock pressing into me, sliding into the heat of my body. I gasped and
moaned, clasping his arms as he leaned into me, his cock pushed ever deeper
as if testing my mettle. Oh the pain was exquisite, so sharp, allowing my
mind to feel every inch he invested in the depths of my bottom.

	John was slow but deliberate; I saw none of the roughness I had
witnessed with his other lover. I already knew he had incredible staying
power; he could plow a row for miles before blasting a load. He picked up
the pace and I locked my ankles behind his back. I could feel his fingers
entwined in my long hair and I tossed my head to feel the pain of his grip.

	There were no words exchanged between us, just the passionate lock
of our eyes and the heavy sucking of breath between our kisses. The
squishing sound of his latex covered cock pounding in my ass was
accompanied by my groans of delight. A veritable fucking symphony of
lovemaking.

	My own cock had long since shrunk into oblivion, overpowered by the
slamming action of John's cock in my ass. I began to smell the funk of his
unwashed body and leaned my nose up to his armpits to inhale the essence of
his sweat. I licked his nipples and tongued the beads of moisture off his
chest hairs, he growled with delight.

	I began to feel his cock swell inside me, the cum laden moment was
fast approaching and I didn't want to miss anything.

	"Pull out and come on me," I begged him.

	John gasped several times and quickly withdrew his cock. I felt the
void like a slap across the face. He roughly pulled the condom off his cock
and stroked himself furiously. I leaned forward towards the swollen head,
opening my mouth to receive his gift and he came.

	His sperm sprayed in my mouth and across my face before my lips
could leap the distance and seal themselves around th head of his cock. He
filled my mouth and I swallowed, gulping his juice, savoring the smell and
taste of his thick creamy essence.

	He grasped my withered cock and pulled it towards his mouth, as his
tongue brought it slowly back to life. He sucked my cock and squeezed my
balls and within seconds I shot my load down his throat. My body was on
fire, my ass quivered and my balls ached. It had been a spectacular
fuck. Our first...but hopefully not the last.

			       *  *  *  *  *

	The tree service arrived just this morning and I watched them cut
down that lovely maple behind the townhouse. John and I lived together now,
loved together, and no one was ever going to spy on us through that bedroom
window.  Dreams can come true.