Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 05:26:35 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Willow, chapter 5

This is a story involving teen/boy, adult/youth, male/male
graphic sex and not intended for reading by minors. If
you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where
you live, please stop now, and go read something else!
This is a completely fantasized story meant only for the
purpose of pleasurable reading. It's not meant to
encourage unsafe, unprotected sex, or to condone sex
with minors. These people aint real.

Feedback: javabiscuit@hotmail.com

Willow ~ chapter five

by Biscuit


Nobody should ever change their clothes as many
times as I did that morning. Not the kind of thing I
usually do, which is grab what's closest and put it on.
I think I finally ended up in basically what I always
wore, a pair of baggy cutoffs and a tee-shirt. It goes
without saying that my guts were in a knot and my
balls were strung up tight as I waited for Willow to
come out of the cottage.

My brain chatter was endless, from swearing I
wouldn't let him get away with treating me like he
had before, to praying he would treat me exactly
like he had before -- depending on whether I was
remembering the way he wouldn't let me touch
him or the way he'd touched me.

Then my thoughts dissolved and I stared. He came
out the door in nothing but a pair of loose khaki
shorts that made him look more naked than naked.
So much beautiful bare skin it hurt to look at him.
He'd gotten taller and filled out subtly. In the weird
way the mind works, I couldn't remember the little
boy he'd been, I could only gape at the boy he'd
become.

"Want to come in?" he called out.

The cottage looked very much the same inside. No
sign of Leon, but I heard the shower running. Their
bed was already made and there was coffee in the
pot on the counter.

When I got close to Willow I saw his hair was damp
and smelled the scent of soap and shampoo on him.
He was fussing with setting the table, not looking at
me.

"Coffee?" he asked me, politely. I shook my head.
He was opening a bakery box on the counter I was
leaning on.

"Are you guys getting ready to go out?" I asked,
feeling cheated at waiting all night just for the
chance to watch him and Leon down their coffee
and leave for the flea market. It seemed too early
in the morning for that.

"Just Leon." Willow looked at me, finally. "He
has an appointment this morning."

The shower had stopped running and the door to
the bathroom door opened, letting out steam and
the mighty Leon, naked and glowing. He was
working a towel in his hair as he walked. His cock
jutted out from his glistening crotch, not hard or
soft, just fucking huge. Like a bad accident, I
couldn't tear my eyes away from it, even though I
wanted to.

"You the man, Tommy. What are you now, six
foot?"

"Yeah, right." The only thing that could have
made me feel smaller is what he did next. The
bastard sat down, reached a big arm out and pulled
me right onto his lap. I was never going to be a tall
guy, and at thirteen, planted on Leon's thigh I was
only looking him in the face. I guess I should have
been grateful that he didn't bounce me on his knee.
I felt the damp of him all along my side, his arm
around my waist and his other hand cupping my
face. Jesus! He held onto me and looked me over
good. I knew what was coming, I could feel it in
my bones and told my lips to get ready. A big, fat,
whiskery kiss, tongue and all.

Strange thing about Leon. Even when he doing
something dumb or gross, there was something so
playful about him that you couldn't get mad. I didn't
want him to kiss me. But when he did it, he tilted me
backwards like a tango dancer in a dramatic dip and
it ended up making me laugh instead of getting mad
at him. So I was hanging backwards on his arm, off
his lap, and he was grinning down at me.  His hand
stroked all over my exposed belly and down to my
crotch, grabbing my hard dick.

"Oh yeah, Tommy. You the man."

Not exactly how I wanted Willow to be seeing me,
like a puppet in Leon's hands. I wanted him to see
me as Leon's rival, as the man who could take him
from Leon. Wasn't going to happen any time soon.

What I didn't realize, was how good, my tolerance
of Leon made me look to Willow. Every time I let
him maul me and tease me without getting ruffled,
it was like a gold star pasted by my name in
Willow's invisible book of judgments. If I hadn't
accepted Leon, laughed at his stupid jokes and
let him grab me from time to time, Willow would
never allowed himself the luxury of caring for me.
That's what I was to him, a luxury.

All the time that I thought he was keeping me at
a distance to control me, to stop me from getting
too close to him, I was kind of right, but mostly
wrong. He was controlling, all right, but it was
to keep himself focused on necessities.

That morning he doled himself out the treat of
kissing me. We were on the bed, after Leon left,
me flat on my back and Willow on his knees. I
was naked. He still had his shorts on but I thought
I saw some small pucker in the loose, soft khaki.
I think I touched the cuff of his pants and he
shook his head. I didn't pressure him, or insist
like I'd imagined I was going to do. Lying there
without my clothes on, just having his coal dark
eyes sweeping over me, was about as much as I
could take. I didn't wish I was Leon then. I was
very glad to be exactly who I was, since Willow
was looking at me as if he liked what he saw.

"Was that your girlfriend, Tom?" he asked me,
eyes roaming from my cock up to my face. "The
one you were sitting with last night?"

My girlfriend? God, he'd seen me before I'd
seen him!

"No, she's not my girlfriend. Why didn't you
come over?"

He shrugged.

"You're just a boy, it doesn't matter. You can
have all the girlfriends you want."

I didn't have long to think about what that meant.
He was bending over me, his hand curling around
my balls, tugging gently, and I watched my dick
slide between his lips. They made a snug wet
blossom he fucked me with. Only his fingers pulling
down on my balls kept me from climbing up into
his throat. He did me slow. I don't know how
Willow did what he did, but he could make me
come so hard I saw stars or pull it out of me slow,
like then, as sweet as gushing honey.


When he was done, and the world was a melted
thing in front of my eyes, that's when he got
down next to me. I saw him suck at his lip, his
gaze moving over my face, and then he kissed
me.

So unfair! I never felt so cheated by something so
good in my life. It was like I'd been hungry for
two years, given a big rich meal and then a huge
piece of chocolate cake. I would have liked to know
that cake was coming, anticipate it and frame the
fucking thing.

Ready for it or not, I ate it. Warm, spunky lips
and a probing little tongue, his bare chest touching
mine, and I could hardly breathe. Damn.

And then Leon was back.

"I see you babies have patched things up."

And Willow was gone. Up off that bed, instantly
attending to Leon. I got up, a whole lot more
slowly, ignored, as Willow helped Leon gather
the things they needed to take out to the market
with them. Once again, I was hating Leon. I
watched Willow cover his silky bronze chest
and shoulders with a white tee-shirt and slip
into a pair of chunky flip-flops.

I hated Leon until we were all outside and the
van was packed. I'd helped carry a few boxes,
just as an excuse to stay till the bitter end. Leon
put his hand out on top of Willow's head.

"You're staying in town," he said. My heart
soared. Willow, unfortunately, was frowning.

"Don't give me the face," Leon laughed and he
plucked him up in his arms.

Amazing. Willow looked every bit as dignified,
being held on Leon's arm like a little kid, as he
did standing on his own two feet. I'm sure I
hadn't come off that well when forced into
Leon's lap.

"Swear to God," Leon said. "It's gonna be a slow
day out there. You're a kid, sweet pea, remember.
It's summertime. Go swimming or something
with your boyfriend. Make your daddy happy."

He reached into the pocket of his army pants and
pulled out a twenty dollar bill that he handed to
me. "Make him eat," he said to me. Then he
buzzed Willow's pouting cheek with a whiskery
kiss. He pressed his lips near the boy's ear and I
could tell he was whispering but couldn't hear
what he said. He must have tickled him at the end
because Willow pursed his lips, trying not to smile,
and kind of squinched his shoulder up.

"Okay," Willow said at last, and I cheered, on
the inside. God, I loved Leon almost as much as
Willow right then. Twenty bucks in my pocket
and the boy was mine!

That was the day I took Willow down to the wharf
to meet my grandfather. He'd already met my
grandfather Sterns, two summers before. And my
mom. He never wanted to spend much time at my
house but he'd gone there with me a few times. My
family referred to him as "that pretty Chinese boy."
They had even briefly met Leon. Just in passing,
with me holding my breath the whole time.

Partly it was a matter of time. We didn't really
spend whole days together. Maybe it was more than
that. Even that day, looking forward to it, I felt a
flutter of nerves I couldn't pin down.

I don't know if I was afraid that Willow would see
Manny Whaite and know he was kind of like Leon,
or afraid that my grandfather would see Willow and
want to touch him.

But it was a brilliant, warm June day and town was
bustling. Not so hot that you felt like you had to go
to the beach. Just perfect for wandering around and
looking at stuff. I was so proud to walk down the
street with him next to me. I wished like anything
that I had the nerve to hold his hand. I found any
excuse I could think of to touch his shoulder or his
back and he didn't shoot me any warning glances.

We stopped first in my mom's photo gallery. It
was a tiny place on the bay side of the main street.
Her photographs were there, some by friends of
hers and craft type things by yet other of her
friends. I don't think my mom made any money
to speak of from her gallery. I think she did it for a
thing to do and my grandfather paid for it. I guess
she was in her thirties then. I thought she was pretty,
for a mom; blonde and soft. She thought she was fat.
We stayed there long enough for Willow to politely
examine some photos. And long enough for her to
fuss over him a little, which I wanted her to. Then
we were off.

By that time my grandfather wasn't going out on
the boats himself anymore. But you could almost
always find him by the time you got to the Coop,
a big fish loading station down at the end of the
wharf. Attached to it were a couple of businesses;
a coffee shop, a bait place, and a souvenir shop. I
don't think you could go anywhere in town that
didn't have some kind of souvenir thing to buy.

It wasn't just fishing boats down there. There were
tour boats, and great big whale watching boats, and
the fishing fleet, which I guess was dwindling then.
Somewhere along the wharf you'd find him. On one
of his own docked boats, somebody else's, or else
down at the Coop or coffee shop. Sometimes, if it
was late in the day he'd be at the Anchor, a bar at
the foot of the wharf where mostly townies and
fishermen hung out. I'd been allowed to peek in the
door to look for him ever since I was a kid.

That day, to my very great pride and pleasure, we
found him on the Little Tom, which was getting
a clean up between trips.