Date: Mon, 3 May 1999 16:42:44 +0100
From: Storyteller_2@yahoo.com
Subject: Wim & Kris Life goes on

This is the fourth story in the Wim/Kris series.

May I thank the many readers who have send me messages of encouragement,
your support is greatly appreciated. I do endeavour to answer all mails and
enjoy entering in to discussions with people of all ages, even those who
should not be reading these stories!

In the story that follows all the sexual parts are pure fiction and should
be read as such. It does not mean the author promotes or agrees with sexual
relationships between men and teenage boys.

If you are not of a legal age where you live to read stories of this nature
or are offended by homosexual behaviour, man/teenage boy, teenage
boy/teenage boy, relationships etc. etc then please do not read any
further. If you do then please enjoy the story as it is one of love and
affection but it is not the responsibility of the writer or the posting
authority of any consequences that arise.


                 Wim & Kris - Life goes on.

Part 2

The 'E Mail'

I had made arrangements for Wim to join the local Junior Technical College.
We had discussed what he wanted to do in later life when we were in
Amsterdam and he had said he wanted to go into Electronics of some type so
when he came over to London we agreed it would be a good move for him to go
to a Tech. College as opposed to a Grammar School. It was agreed with the
College that he would start after Easter which was only days away. I was
pleased with this arrangement on two accounts, one - it gave him time to
settle into a new way of life and two - I had him all to myself for about
three weeks, selfish I know but I didn't care and neither did Wim. Also we
had to go back to Amsterdam to sort out Henk's Dad's telephone system at
his diamond workshop.

When we left Amsterdam I had given the boys we left behind my E mail
address as all three had access to the net and it was quicker than "snail
mail" this way Wim could keep in touch with his life long friends and would
not feel too isolated.

For a change I awoke before my son. He was as usual in the Wim position
dribbling saliva on my chest hairs, one leg over mine and one arm across my
chest. I slipped sideways and managed to get out of the bed without waking
him. I put on a bath robe, picked up my cigs and lighter and quietly left
the bedroom. I went into my normal routine, the same routine I had done
since Philip and June left to set up on their own. Light a cig, kettle on,
teapot empty, bathroom for a pee. I made a pot of tea for two and cut some
slices of bread for toast. I glanced at the clock, 0715, my normal time for
getting up. I made up my mind to let the boy sleep and drank my tea and ate
the toast. A second mug of tea in my hand and I went and turned on the
TV. The breakfast news programme was on, I muted the sound and turned to
text. That way I could pick which news to read and the sound wouldn't
disturb my boy. I didn't think the sound carried that far but I thought it
better to be on the safe side. One of these days there will be some good
news, yeah and pigs will fly! Look on the bright side Kris, if the
President of the United States insists a 'blow job' isn't sexual relations
then I'm not breaking the law with my son! Ah! There goes another pig
flying passed the window. I made another pot of tea and cut some more bread
for Wim. The time had crept round to 0800 and I heard a loud shout from
upstairs,

"DAD, KRIS. DA AD!"

There was a sound of pounding feet on the stairs and this naked boy rushed
into the kitchen. As he saw me there was such a look of relief on his face
and he launched himself through the air and clung round my neck.

"What on earth was all that about," I said holding him close.

"I woke up and I didn't know where I was, I put my hand out and there was
nobody in the bed; I just panicked and shot out of bed and made for the
door, then I remembered where I was and shouted for you."

"You silly sausage," I comforted him and gave him a good morning kiss, "do
you want a cuppa?"

"Oh yes please, my mouth is as dry a bone."

I poured him a mug of tea and he reminded me of myself as he didn't drink
it, he inhaled it. There was a big sigh and those beautiful blue eyes
looked at me and he held out an empty mug for a refill. I watched as he
actually tasted the second helping of tea.

"Toast?"

"Yes please. Wasn't that silly of me, I feel a right fool."

As I was putting the bread in the toaster he came and stood in front of me.
He undid the tie round my bathrobe and slipped his hands round my waist and
hugged me tightly. My arms went round him and I just could not resist
cupping his buttocks in my hands. His neck craned back and his eyes closed
and his lips puckered up, this was more than a morning kiss.

"I love you Dad."

"Love you too son, eat your toast and then we will hit the shower... for
just a shower!"

A grin came on his face as he taunted me with "Meany."

Ablutions complete we got dressed and planned the day ahead. The only thing
that was good on the TV was weather forecast. Warm and sunny with light
Westerly winds, not bad for the beginning of April. It was Wim's birthday
on the 7th, mine on the 8th and Philips on the 9th today was the 5th . Good
job I earned some money in Amsterdam!

"Wim, what do you want for your birthday?"

"I've already got it, the gold St. Christopher and chain and a guy called
Kris Hammond as my Dad. Anyway what do you want for yours, it is the day
after mine remember!"

"You don't have to remind me, at my time of life I like to forget my
birthday, it depresses me to remember. I think I would like a 5'5" Dutch
boy to love me and be my son."

"You've already got that but that does remind me I haven't got any money of
my own. I know you provide everything that I need but it would be nice to
have some pocket money.  I used to save money from my bus fare and dinner
money in Holland 'cos that tight bugger of a "father" didn't let me have
any. Not that I'm suggesting you are a tight fisted person."  he quickly
added.

I smiled and realised we had not discussed money since he became very rich.
We talked about various forms of pocket money and amounts. He came to the
conclusion that it would be better if I provided everything for him, and
let him have a weekly allowance which would allow him to buy games for the
computer, sweets, soft drinks away from home, the usual things that normal
teenagers wanted when out with the friends. As this was London and prices
were high I suggested a figure of £10.00 per week with a review after 3
months. He said that was too much but that was the figure I had set in my
mind and we eventually agreed, rule 2 was applied. I said he could set up a
savings account and what he didn't use he could save, which he thought was
a brilliant idea. That would be HIS money to do what he liked with. His
English was getting very colloquial. Never mind I didn't think he was going
to be a literary critic.

I told him to go upstairs into HIS bedroom and make up HIS bed, sort out
his clothes into HIS wardrobe and at least make it look as though someone
was using it.

He looked worried and asked, "You are not kicking me out of your bed, are
you?"

"No of course not, but we may as well make it look right -- you never know
who may go up there and look."

"Good thinking "Batman", he said with a look of relief and a grin and he
dashed off to do his chores.

Whilst he was doing his bit I called the Telephone Company and ordered an
ISDN connection. I was amazed when they said they could fit it tomorrow and
the Engineer would be with us at 0800. I asked for two computer cards and
told them I would fit them myself. I checked with my ISP that they did ISDN
and they did, but it was on a different number so I would have to programme
that in to the machines. I ordered an E mail address for Wim and was told
it would be better to do that 'on line'

Time had whizzed round and Wim came in the office with tea and bickies.

"When we have finished our tea come and look at my room and see what you
think. Who were you talking to?"

I told him about the ISDN line and he jumped for joy.

Whilst we were drinking out tea I switched on my machine for the first time
since getting back from Amsterdam. I hit read mail and it went barmy. It
sat there for about 10 minutes just downloading message after message. When
it had finished I disconnected and Wim dragged me off to see his room.

He had personalised the whole room. It really did look like a teenagers
den.  He had put posters on the wall, set up his portable Hi-Fi, rearranged
the furniture and I had to admit it looked good. He had put his desk under
the window and said this would be his 'Study' where he would do his
homework and school things. I went to my little store room and dug out an
angle poise desk lamp and set it up.

"Very nice," I said, "all you will want now is a laptop to go on the desk
and it is complete."

"You are kidding," he said, "tell me you are kidding!"

"Why should I kid you, it would be useful and you could take it to college,
it would be a tool for use at school. We will get one before you go back
after the holidays."

His arms came round my neck and I got a massive hug which slowly reduced in
tightness and he whispered in my ear,

"Wait here till I call you."

About five minutes later I heard him call from the other bedroom. I
wondered what he was up to. I entered the bed room to find him fully
dressed but in some of his new clothes.

"Sit on the bed whilst I model my new clothes for you."

He was wearing his new trainers, new sports socks, new Cargo shorts and a
black tee shirt.  He looked very sexy. His legs were beautifully shaped and
the socks showed off his calves and the shorts came halfway down his
thighs. The tee shirt was not baggy but not tight, it just gave a hint of
the nicely shaped chest underneath. I was mesmerised by the way he looked.
He slowly pulled up his tee shirt and then let it drop again. He bent
forward and undid the laces in his trainers. He kicked off each trainer
separately. He moved over to where I was sat on the bed and placed his foot
on my knee allowing me to pull off his sock. His other foot followed,
whilst I was taking off his socks he leaned forward and licked my arms and
let his tongue lick each of his knees. His hands grasped the bottom of his
tee shirt again and he slowly pulled it over his head. He left it over his
head hiding his face from me and he slowly gyrated his hips, his hands slid
up his tummy to his chest and he fingered his nipples between his
forefinger and thumb. I could see them get hard and stick out.  I was now
in a state of high arousal. The tee shirt came off and he threw is on my
lap. He slid his hands down the side of his body bringing his fingers to
the top of his shorts. He slowly unbuttoned the top but held the shorts
up. Gripping the top of the shorts he moved to within a foot in front of me
and leaned over and gave me a kiss on the lips.  How I resisted from
grabbing him round his waist and pulling him to me I will never know but I
did. He stepped back a foot or so and turned round facing away from me and
lowered the shorts to the ground, bending forward in the process. This gave
me the perfect view of his well formed buttocks clothed in his new black
silk boxers which were stretched skin tight. I could not hold back and I
groaned in anticipation of him turning round. He heard the groan and stood
up and slowly turned round with his hands on his hips and an angelic smile
on his face, he knew what he was doing to me. The fly of his boxers was
tightly closed and the soft black silk was stretched to form a tent, hiding
a very erect penis. He slowly took two steps forward and stood between my
open knees. He bent forward and drooped his hands and arms over my
shoulders and slid forward so his head was resting against my neck. he was
obviously excited as his breathing was quick and shallow.

"Take 'em off," he breathed, I'm all yours, take them off."

"Not until you have taken mine off," I replied.

He was getting very sexually excited and he feverishly stripped me to my
boxers. The front of the silk showed moisture as his pre-cum started to
flow. I could see his boyhood pulsing with his heartbeat and mine was
matching the pulsations.

"NOW take them off," he gasped.

He stood up straight within the confines of my knees and I put my hands
under his armpits and let them slide down to the cheeks of his bottom. The
soft silk heightened the erotic feeling for both him and me and I squeezed
his buttocks and used my thumb and forefinger of each hand to hold the
fabric. I very slowly pulled the silk downwards. It was his turn to moan
and his hands gripped my shoulders and his head craned backwards as he
groaned again in sexual delight. The action of pulling down his underwear
brought my lips opposite his boyhood. I let my hands move slowly up the
back of his legs, my fingers playing on the back of his knees and then the
insides of his thighs and eventually to his buttocks. I pulled him forward
and took his now very wet penis into my mouth. His whole body vibrated with
pleasure. I could see his toes curl into the pile of the carpet, his
fingers clamped on the top of my shoulders, his thigh muscles went rigid.

"Oh God make it last, Dad please make it last, this is out of this world,"
and his head came forward and his teeth nibbled the back of my neck.

I sucked him deep into my throat and then pulled him backwards so he was
just in my mouth. I let my tongue run up the underside of his penis and
then over the top of the tip flicking and licking it at the same time
applying suction. He was now shaking all over, his whole frame was on fire.
He pulled out of my mouth and pushed me back on to the bed.  He swung my
feet so I was laid totally on the mattress and pulled my boxers from my
body.  He crawled from the end of the bed keeping his body in contact with
mine till he was laid on the top of me with his lips pushed against mine in
a passionate embrace.  My arms encircled his chest and I pulled him so
tightly I'm sure we became one.  Tongues fenced, penises ground together
and we stared to sweat. Lubricated with sweat our bodies became more aware
of the sexual pleasure we were both enjoying. He broke the kiss and
swivelled round to the classic 69. We both knew we could last only a few
seconds. I sucked him into me and I felt his hot mouth suck me into him.
One suck from each of us was all that was needed. We both went rigid, our
backs arched, our leg muscles hardened, four testicles moved up in our
scrotums and our muscles contracted again at exactly the same instant in
time. We both sucked and swallowed as our bodies convulsed in sexual
ecstasy. We were spent, I made the effort and turned round and faced down
the bed so we were facing each other lips to lips our arms wound round each
other and we kissed and went to sleep.

I woke up half of my body frozen stiff and the other half warmed by my son.
I felt his body, he was cold too. That is the problem with England in
April, during the day the central heating goes off and the house cools down
and if you are laid naked on a bed at 1100 then you become bloody cold. I
also was as dry as a bone and wanted a pee fit to taste it. Now there must
be a synergy there somewhere but we are not into 'water sports'!  I got off
the bed and pulled the duvet over my sleeping son, slipped on some
tracksuit bottoms and a tee shirt and made for the kitchen and bathroom in
the reverse order. I smiled remembering telling Wim the tale 'O' for a 'P'
and 'P' for relief as I emptied my bladder. Kettle on I made some ham
sandwiches and got out some cheese and biscuits. We both needed another
shower.

A bleary eyed boy wearing just a bathrobe walked into the kitchen just as I
had made the tea.

"Any chance of a cuppa?" he asked, "oooh! ham sandwiches."

"10 minutes," I said, "I've just made one, and leave the sandwiches alone,
Gannet, they are for lunch and we need a shower before then."

"Together?"

"Yes but an instructional shower."

"An instructional shower!?"

"Yes I want to show you how to properly examine your testicles. Did you
know that one in two hundred males develop testicle cancer and it can start
as early as 12 or 13 just as you start puberty? So I want to show you how
to feel around to make sure there are no abnormal lumps. It is best done
just after a bath or a shower when your scrotal sac is relaxed and your
balls are hanging low due to the heat."

"It won't hurt will it?"

"It will not hurt, not won't," I said correcting his English for the first
time in ages, "and no it will not hurt."

We had our usual hot shower and Wim's balls were hanging low. I cradled his
testicles in the palm of my hand and gently separated them with my fingers
and giving a running commentary of what I was doing, I felt them in turn to
see that there was no hardness and showed him the tubes at each side of the
testee's and gently moved them to one side. He was as clear as a bell but I
was interested that whilst we were doing this neither of us got anywhere
near arousal. Just shows you something like cancer concentrates the mind on
the job in hand, oh sorry no pun intended.

He dashed out of the bathroom, dripping wet through and was back in a flash
with a ruler in his hand.

"Measure it now quick whilst it is slack."

I did just that and it remained in a flaccid state whilst I took the
measurement. 8 centimetres, just over 3". I don't think we had ever taken
that measurement before, it was so rare for me to see him without a
hard-on! He clung round my neck and started to kiss me on the lips, my
hands went to the only place possible, his bottom. We went into our usual
clinch and the kiss became more passionate. Our tongues met and they played
with themselves. We sucked them into each others mouth. His hands went, one
under my scrotum the other round my now rising manhood. I used my hands to
pull him close and I could feel his boyhood rising between my thighs.
Keeping one hand on his bottom I let the fingers of the other wrap round
his now hard penis. I slid down and took him into my mouth for a second
time within two hours. He tasted sweet, he smelt clean and I knew I loved
him. I just gently sucked him and felt the head of his penis grow in my
mouth. He was very rigid and throbbing.

"Measure it now and then bring me to a climax please Kris," he begged,
giving me the ruler.

With difficulty I measured his tool. A full 12 and three quarter
centimetres 5" fully extended. I flung the ruler to one side and put my
hands on his buttocks and pulled him deep into my mouth. No sooner was he
in than he screamed, shuddered and ejaculated.

"God that was good," he said using a wet face cloth to wipe my face and his
penis. "Have I grown any since the last time?"

"A full 2 and three quarter centimetres," I said, "in imperial measurement
you are now a full 5 inches."

I was still hard and he slipped behind me and put his hands round my body
and proceeded to masturbate me. As I was starting to come to a climax he
picked up the ruler and measured mine. He didn't say anything but brought
me to a tremendous climax directing my shooting sperm into the toilet
bowl.

As I came down from the high he said, "I have an inch to go to equal you."

"At the rate you are growing it will not take long," I said with a grin.
"Lunch?"

We dried each other as we normally did when we had the time and as usual it
finished with him trying to make me bald whilst drying my hair. We went
back upstairs and got dressed.  He put on clean clothes, not his black silk
boxers but a pair of pure white briefs, jeans and one of the new sport
shirts he had picked out.

"Let's have lunch and then I can read my 'E' mails," I said.

"Good whilst you are doing that I can have a go on my machine."

I accessed my mails, most were standard ones but there were four of special
interest. One from my friend in LA, three from Holland from Paul, Henk for
me and Wim's first 'E' mail, a combined one from Henk and Paul sent from
Paul's machine. In the subject box on the one from Paul it said 'read this
one first'. I looked at the time/date it was sent and was surprised to see
that it was sent very early this morning. I brought up the message on the
screen and told Wim to come and have a look. It said:

Dear Kris,

I hope you can help. Please let me know if you can. I have to tell you that
David is missing.  He was last seen on Sunday night. He never arrived at
school yesterday and we wondered if he was ill. Henk and I rang his home
but there was no reply. I told my Dad I was worried and he rang Henk's
Dad. As they lived closer to David's place than I do they decided to go
round to see if there was a problem. When they got there they found the
Police at their apartment. As Henk's Dad is well known he was allowed to
talk to the officer in charge.  It appears that David's mother works in the
Red Light district as a prostitute and one of her clients attacked her with
a knife and she died in hospital on Sunday night. The police went round to
tell David but he was no where to be found. Some of his clothes are missing
as is his passport. We don't know if he has any money on him or where he
has gone.  Because his passport is gone the Police have put a watch on all
the boarder crossing points but they didn't do that until this morning so
he could be anywhere. Both Henk and I think that he may be trying to get to
see you. I know he has your home address and telephone number but London is
a big place and we are very worried. We all agreed that we would not tell
the Police what we suspected so they will not be staking out your place so
if he does make it to London then he will be able to get to you, we hope!

Please keep a look out for him and let us know if he turns up. Henk sends
his love as I do.  Hope to hear some good news from you soon. Love to Wim.

Big hug and a kiss and looking forward to seeing you in the flesh at Easter

Lots of love.

Paul xxxxxxxx

I looked at Wim and he looked at me. You could have heard a pin drop. I lit
a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Wim lent over the machine and clicked on his mail. It was all in Dutch. He
read it in silence.  I waited for him to translate for me.

"It more or less says the same as yours except that David had told the boys
that he was very unhappy at home, different men coming in at all times of
the day and night and some of them were very handy with their fists if he
got in the way. He was talking about running away and this must have been
the opportunity he was waiting for."

I read Henk's mail and that just confirmed what Wim had just told me. Wim
clung to me like a limpet.

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Well, not a lot at the moment. We don't know where he is, but, if he does
get in touch, then we will do all we can to help him."

"I knew you would, you are a great man, my Dad, you really are."

With that the phone rang. As I was sat at the computer I answered it from
there. This way gave me full 'hands free' and Wim could hear who was
calling. An operator came on the line and said,

"Is that Mr. Kris Hammond?" I replied it was and she continued, "I have a
call from Hull from a Mr. David Geest will you accept the charges for the
call?"

Wim looked at me but said nothing, I told the operator I would accept the
call.

"Kris is that you?" I acknowledged it was. "It's David from Amsterdam, can
I come and see you. I need to talk to you and ask you a lot of very
important questions."

I replied in a very calm voice and said, "Of course, David, Wim and I would
love to see you, whereabouts are you at the moment?"

"I'm at the central bus station in Hull, how do I get to you?"

"Have you any English money, David?"

"Yes, I got my Guilders changed on the ferry. I've got about 100.00 Pound
Sterling."

"Right, go across the road to Hull Paragon Railway station, it isn't far,
it adjoins the bus station. Go to the booking office and buy a single
ticket to London Kings Cross, have you got that?"

"Yes a single to Kings Cross."

"Find out what time the train gets into Kings Cross and then give me call
and let me know.  Wim and I will meet you off the train at Kings Cross,
okay!"

"Yes okay, how long a journey is it?"

"Depends on the train but anywhere from 2 hours 35 minutes to 3 hours 20
with a change at Doncaster but see if you can get a through train, okay."

"Okay I'll call you in a few minutes, Bye!" He hung up.

Wim said, "Well at least we know he is safe, is Kings Cross far from here?"

"About 15 miles," I said.

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Depends on the time and traffic I've done it in 30 minutes and on one
occasion it took me two and a half hours."

The phone rang again. It was David.

"I've got my ticket and it is a through train which arrives at Kings Cross
at 15.35. Where will you be? I don't want to miss you."

"Oh you will not miss us, when you get off the train follow the crowd to
the exit of the platform and Wim and I will be waiting for you. Off you go
and get a seat and we will see you soon."

"Thanks, Kris. I love you and Wim." He put the phone down.

"Time to call George, I think."

I typed in George's office number and the machine dialled it out. His
secretary answered and recognised my voice and put me through straight
away. I told George the story.

"Shit, Kris, you do get yourself in some pretty pickles, don't you! Let the
boy get to you and get his side of the story. Do not inform the authorities
till I have had a briefing and then you had better leave it to me. Don't
tell me I already know what is going through you stupid mind. Oh by the way
how is Wim?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, George."

"Oh you two are on that bloody computer again, I might have known."

"I've got my own now, George," Wim said.

"You will have the bloody things coming out of you ears next," and he hung
up in disgust.

George does not like computers.

"Let's have another cuppa and then we can get ready to go into town," I
said.

Wim made the tea whilst I read my other mail from my friend in LA. It was a
general type of mail telling me about his son Cody and what he had been up
to. That kid will be the death of him. Nearly 16 and still breaking his
bones. If he was mine I would tan his arse, on second thoughts knowing Cody
he would probably enjoy that! I have a great affection for that boy and his
younger brother. One of these days we must get together, maybe when I take
Wim to the States!

Wim brought in two mugs of tea and said he had looked at the travel on text
and it didn't look too bad, the A40 was slow but moving. I said we must not
be late as I didn't want David thinking we had left him to his own devices.
Tea drank Wim asked if he could get the car out. With the usual warnings of
a father who was letting his son drive his pride and joy he skipped out to
the garage. I made the house safe and took the controls. It was slow and I
was pleased we had left plenty of time. Again I was lucky and found a
parking meter near the station. I checked the arrivals board and the train
was about 10 minutes late so we had about 15 minutes to kill. The Gannets
nose was working. It led him to a burger bar.

"Now if I had my own money, he said, "I could buy you a burger!"

I gave him a tenner (10.00). "Your pocket money for the week and I'll have
a double cheese burger please."

He grinned and we positioned ourselves at the end of the correct platform
and waited for the train.

The train arrived and we both saw David at the same time. Wim shouted to
him and we could see the look of relief on his face as he saw us. He broke
into a run.  He leaped through the air and wound himself round me, tears
streaming down his face and his body wracked with sobs. Wim looked at me
and said something in Dutch to David. I found out later that he said he was
safe now and that his Dad would look after him. We went to the car and
David sat in the back seat as we drove home.


End of Part 2

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