Date: Sat, 19 Oct 2013 02:01:16 -0400 From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com> Subject: Young-but Daily Growing-Part 16 Young but Daily Growing-Part 16 By Eff Del Strangely, at those times when life has acquired a certain pleasing rhythm and sits upon us thickly and sweetly- flowing along smoothly like warm honey, we will often fail to appreciate our satisfaction or, when we do, will make mental or verbal apologies for our current lack of distraction and disaffection... as if to be living a happy existence should be a cause for embarrassment. We reach an inner spiritual and mental accord when we come to the realization that comfort and contentment are not states of mediocrity or failure but rather, are a desirable condition (however briefly they may be maintained) in the course of this all too short life. Nature intervened upon my plans for an active outdoor weekend. A cold January rain swept rapidly in from the west and, as so often happens, it stalled above us depositing life giving water upon the earth in icy torrents driving us ungrateful and petulant humans indoors to spend our time sullenly sheltered under our good roofs behind our strong warm walls. There would be no hiking or fishing. No hours at the trap range...no playing catch out on the grass. Not that we lacked for amusement within the confines of Joyous Gaurde. John was summoned from his apartment across the teaming parking lot and down to the game room to begin Sean's tutelage as a future "stick"...a term of respect and affection bestowed upon a skilled pool player. The first order of business was the location and retrieval of a fortuitously remembered step stool so that the small boy had legitimate access to the flat felted surface of the adult sized table. John was not a harsh instructor but he was precise and thorough. He made no assumptions regarding Sean's knowledge of the game. He chose to start with the very basics taking time to explain the significance of each tiny detail. Unlike many boys his age, Sean didn't attempt to rush or dissuade John from the explanation and demonstration of these basics in order to get on with the "fun stuff". Instead, he listened and watched intently often interrupting with pertinent and well thought out questions. I mentally noted that this seemed to be Sean's approach to all new things and was probably one of the reasons that he seemed to excel at almost everything he put his hand and mind to. I watched without interrupting, admiring as always, the artistic manner John wielded a cue...the precision with which his eyes and mind worked out the complex geometrical problems and relayed the solution to his waiting and capable hands. After about a half an hour, I decided to leave them to it. It was obvious they were enjoying their mutual enterprise as well as each other's company. Both had been smiling and laughing as I retired to my study and poured some of my favorite amber spirit over two ice cubes; sipping as I leaned back in my chair. The rain was having an effect upon my attitude and I was looking for some diversion to drive away my morose mood. I decided to place a call to Uncle Phil. We hadn't seen each other or for that matter even spoken since that wonderful Monday we had met together in this very room and he had presented the videos that were my first glimpse of the dark haired angel that a compassionate heaven later sent to save my foolish life. Uncle Phil naturally wanted to know how things were developing and I did my best to fill him in on all of the amazing things that had occurred in the short time since I'd fetched the boy from the NEST. Unlike Doctor Swaim, he asked no probing questions but instead he seemed content to listen to my commentary and enjoy hearing about my new found happiness. I didn't reveal or discuss any of my inner turmoil concerning what the future held in store for Sean...and for me. Steering the conversation in a different direction I explained that I felt I had finally regained a level of mental and emotional stability. With that said, it was time I began taking an active interest in the family business at some level. Actually, it had occurred to me that effective Monday, Doctor Swaim and the swim team would be taking up a good deal of Sean's time and I frankly needed some personal diversion. Absently, I glanced at my now empty tumbler and felt the prickle of an unexpressed thought ping through my mind. It had the feel of an unpleasant idea and so I pushed it away into some hidden recesses. "You know Uncle Phil," I laughed a bit too theatrically "I can't live every minute just for one eleven year old boy. I need something more to do with myself." Before breaking the connection, it was agreed that we would get together Monday morning while Sean was with the Professor, and we'd review some possible active involvement I could have in some or all of the family enterprises that he managed so capably. I threw two fresh ice cubes into my crystal glass and splashed single malt over them. There was no little tingling mental objection this time, so I took a long sip and leaned way back in my chair staring at the ceiling. I allowed two thoughts to rise to the surface of my consciousness; "I'm drinking far too much and far too often. I wonder if I've actually passed the point where I can even control it anymore." That thought was entirely too troubling and so I pushed it away and let the second ascend; "I lied to Uncle Phil. If I had my choice I'd spend every waking moment with Sean. I'd smother him with my love and attention...I'd..." I pushed that idea away as well. It was almost as disturbing as the first. Sean had come into my life and this little boy had somehow been strong enough to lift me out of the fog; to extricate me from the emotional muck I'd allowed myself to sink into and had dragged me up and into the clear light of sanity and reality. If I was to continue operating on this plane of clarity however, I was going to be forced to make decisions. Decisions that were based upon reality and... because I'd allowed him to become involved...because I'd allowed him to begin his rescue of my foul lost soul, those decisions would concern him just as much as they did me. They would have to be fair, right decisions not emotional ones. My mind and heart ached with the pain of these realizations. I made myself another drink and finished it quickly not allowing pesky concerns over it emerge for consideration. The rest of the weekend was spent leisurely; we swam naked for hours with me finding myriad excuses to touch his water slick skin. John came back in on Sunday spending a couple of hours of instruction in the game room. Sean and I spent a great deal of wonderfully lazy time laying on one of the large sofas in the library reading. We lay- each at a separate end with our heads propped upon pillows playing footsie with our stockinged feet as we turned our pages. All too quickly it was Monday. After breakfast, we parted with a sweet kiss. He scampered off to meet the professor in the newly converted "classroom" and I walked down to my study to wait for Uncle Phil. I couldn't shake the feeling that life was about to settle into a routine. "If that's the case," I thought "it doesn't feel like a bad thing." I stood in front the mirror and looked at my own image not entirely displeased. It had been over four years since I'd worn my grey Deer Run Club blazer and remarkably it still fit me quite well. My extended excursion into madness had not destroyed body's overall fitness though I noted there were areas that had grown soft and it didn't take much of an imagination to see the very slight beginnings a paunch at my middle. I made myself a promise to begin a more regular program of workouts noting with a silent chuckle that more time spent swimming in the pool as opposed to grabbing Sean's cute little ass would help tremendously. "Eric, could you please help me?... Oh boy! You look terrific!" Sean had come walking into the dressing area waving both ends of his blue and red club tie which lay unknotted around his neck. "Thanks champ you look pretty great yourself." I responded with a smile. He looked wonderful in his navy slacks, crisp white shirt and brand new grey blazer with embroidered club patch. The colors made his startling blue/green eyes appear almost turquoise. His thick black hair had not yet been brushed. The shaggy locks falling over his ears and down upon the collar of his shirt set his beautiful face off to perfection. I noted almost mournfully that he would be needing a haircut soon. His face had been fixed in a serious expression as he's walked into the room fussing with the tie but he'd broken into a smile upon seeing me. Now, as he noticed how I was looking at him in return, the smile became an impish grin and he spread his arms as if he were on display. Which, truth be told, he was. "Come over here and stand in front of me and watch in the mirror what I do." I leaned over him and slowly worked the silk cravat into a half Windsor knot, pulling it snug and finally pinching it into perfection. He looked stunning and I suppose he knew it because he broke into a wide smile as he viewed his own reflection critically while I ran a brush through his hair. As we walked down the stairs in our matching outfits, he began to giggle. "What's so funny Sean?" "It's been a while since we had a dress code around here" he snickered. I reached over his shoulder and hugged him into me. I didn't need to say anything. Sean made as if to get into the front seat of the limo but John stopped him. "Oh, no. You look way too snazzy to ride up front. Into the back with you Sean." >From the look on the boy's face, you'd have thought that he'd just been slapped which melted John at once. He reached out and took the boy by the shoulders stooping down to be at his eye level. "Sean, I'm just kiddin' with you but you've got to understand...when you're going to some place formal and fancy like this thing tonight, it doesn't look good for you to ride in the front. That's why you have a limousine in the first place. When it's over, you can ride up front with me and tell me all about it. For now though, ride in the back with Eric. I'm even going to close the glass divider between us before we pull into the club. OK?" "Kay." Sean replied but I could tell from his tone that he wasn't actually convinced nor did he really understand why things had to "look good". There wasn't an ounce of pretense in this boy's body but he trusted me and he trusted John so he slid in back next to me. John gave him a smile and a wink as he closed the door on us and I gave him a hug as we headed down the long driveway. The Club was crowded. John pulled up front, jumped out and held the door opened for us while standing in his most formal manner. Before stepping out of the limo, I doubled checked with him as to what time he should return to pick us up. I knew he probably had some pool games lined up at Arney's Place tonight and he just loved pulling up to that seedy joint in the limo. Inside, the club was a sea of grey blazers. The introduction and welcoming of the swim team was a major social event at Deer Run. There were in actuality four complete teams being introduced tonight, (the girls teams would be introduced at a separate affair tomorrow)...Division Four was the 11-12 year olds. Division three, the 13-14 year olds, division Two were the 15-16 year olds and division one was the senior grouping made up of 17-18 year olds. The Division 4 and 5 teams were the largest and were always the Club's pride and joy. As in many things, as boys grew into their upper teens, other interests and diversions drew them away from the discipline of organized swimming hence the teams grew smaller. While I had been an above average swimmer in my youth, Kyle had been outstanding. He'd been a standout in Division 4 but had really bloomed in Division 3. He would have faced some wonderful competition when he moved up into Division 2 had he lived to do so. I shook my head to clear it reminding myself that I'd made a promise to avoid all depressing thoughts this evening and to concentrate only on the happy anticipation surrounding Sean and his new team. We crossed the lobby to sign in and pick up our tickets and as we were doing so I heard a chorus of young voices from across the room; "There he is!" "Sean! Hey Sean!" There was the sound of young feet running on the rust colored carpet and suddenly Sean was in the midst of a group of boys whom I recognized as the six he'd been with upon leaving the tryouts last week. They were the group that Coach Riorden had secretly designated as already qualified for the team that very afternoon. They were all immediately engaged in an animated conversation, gesturing and jumping...not a one of them seemingly capable of standing still for five minutes. I watched them with a smile. They were as attractive a group of boys as I'd ever seen but my Sean was the gem of the group. His eyes flashed and hands moved in swift bird like gestures as he spoke. The other six hung rapt on his every word. They were the elite of their genre and he was their instinctively recognized leader. My bemused observation was interrupted by a hand suddenly clasping my shoulder. I turned and saw Clay Riorden smiling at me. My first reaction was to think to myself that his hair was so grey that it almost perfectly matched his Club blazer. Other than that however, he looked as fit as I remembered him when he'd coached me as a teenager. "Well Eric, what do you think of the Seven Samurai?" he said with a smile as he indicated the clutch of boys. "Excuse me?" I hoped I didn't look as confused as I sounded. "That's what I've begun to call them in my mind; the Seven Samurai... like in that old Jap movie. I think that these boys are going be the core of the best Division 4 team this club has ever produced and..." he lowered his voice at this point. "Your Sean is going to be the heart and soul of the whole group unless I'm badly mistaken." Before I had the opportunity to respond, they were calling us into the dining room for the banquet. At the door he headed off to his place at the front dais while Sean and I located our designated seats at the Division Four table. While excited young chatter circled and crossed the table, I pondered Clay's appellation for the group of boys. "The Seven Samurai" was a classic 1950's Japanese movie by legendary director Akira Kurosawa. It was about a group of seven Ronin (samurai with no master to serve) who accept the task of defending a small village against a large gang of bandits and succeed against all odds. The entire concept was later blatantly stolen by Hollywood and turned into the wonderful western; "The Magnificent Seven". I wondered if either of these honorifics would mean anything to these boys. Perhaps I'd have to arrange for a private screening of both films. " How would 11 and 12 year olds handle sub-titles for the Japanese film?" I wondered and then recalled that the action was so fast and vivid they probably wouldn't care. I filed that idea away for future consideration. We'll see how they live up to expectations I decided. The meal was mediocre as such things tend to be and the speeches were too long and of course too predictable but then, this night was not for the adults it was for the kids who would be doing the actual competition. Sitting up front in the limo, a very animated Sean delivered a blow by blow account of the entire banquet to an amused John. "An John," Sean excitedly added "Coach took the seven of us guys aside and told us we had a special name...we're the Seven sammerfries!" John let out a loud guffaw which he'd tried desperately to suppress. I reached over the seat and patted Sean's shoulder. "That's the Seven Samurais." I tried not to sound as amused as I was. "I'll explain all about it to you tonight." I glanced into the mirror and saw that John was looking very much like the famous cat that had eaten the canary. "So John," I tried to sound casual. "How was YOUR evening?" With a smile, he reached into his inside jacket pocket and withdrew a thick stack of bills I could see the reflection of his grin in the mirror. "Eric, let's just say that I'm buying the ice cream tonight." I reached over and patted his shoulder. "Long live the King!" I said with a smile. January ended wet and chilly. February was passing in much the same manner; interspersing bright warm glorious stretches with cold, wet, grey days that chilled the bone and dulled the spirit. This is how winter strives to break your heart in this part of the country; by trying desperately to blunt the hope and expectation of spring. I spent my mornings reviewing reports that were now being sent to me on an increasingly regular basis. Every Monday I met with Uncle Phil and together we discussed what action was or was not required to facilitate the smooth flow of commerce that was the life blood of the family fortune. Every day I noticed he seemed to put more and more credence on my in-put. We'd finally reached a point where I no longer felt that he was simply humoring me during these weekly meetings. Sean spent his mornings behind the closed door of my grandfather's old office which was now the secret chamber of Dr. David Swaim; the Wizard of Joyous Gaurde. I never even poked my nose inside the classroom because what was going on in there was a process shared by the two of them. I only knew that Sean was never reticent to start the day's "learning adventure" and he always left the room excited and eager. We had our weekends and afternoons to ourselves except for swim team practice three times a week and Saturday swim meets. The team was having a record season and the so called "Seven Samurai" were exceeding expectations. Sean was becoming something of a gold medal monster and the little guy was getting used to seeing his name and often his picture in the sports section of the local newspaper. I'd started a scrapbook and was making plans to display his awards. I'd originally considered some new shelves in "Father's Alter" but that just didn't feel right. My current idea was to create a large niche in the wall of the hall leading past the library. I was seated in a soft arm chair in the library reading a magazine. My interest in the world and its events had been slowly rekindled. Sean was lying on the sofa, knees up engrossed in his latest book. One of the results of his time spent with the professor was that he'd become a voracious reader. He was currently reading Melville's "Moby Dick" which I considered ambitious for an 11 year old. I myself had not read it until I was 13. "Eric, did you know they make perfume outta whale puke?" that one came right out of left field. "What?" "Yeah, they make `spensive perfume and stuff outta whale puke." My mind clicked back into gear..."Aha! He's reached chapter 92." I thought. I placed my magazine aside. "You must be talking about ambergris." I said. "Yeah, that's it. I read about it here in "Moby Dick" and when I asked the Professor about it, he told me to do some research. They make perfume out of ambragrass...whale puke." "First off, it's "ambergris" not "ambragrass" and it's not REALLY whale puke." I got up from my chair and motioned him over to me. "It's a substance that is found in the bowels and intestines of sperm whales and it helps them digest things that they eat. Sometimes the whales do puke it out but most often they poop it out or...it just stays inside them. In the old whaler days like in Moby Dick, they'd get it out of the body of a whale they'd killed but now that we mostly don't kill whales anymore, all the ambergris we get is found floating on the ocean or washed up onto a beach. Here..." I pulled a glass display box down from one of the shelves alongside the fireplace and opened it. It contained a dark gray irregular item about the size of a baseball. I handed it to Sean. "My father and I found this chunk floating in the water off the Coast of St. Johns Island in the Caribbean. When it's fresh from the whale it's white and smells like poop...really bad, but after time it turns dark like this and smells...well you smell it." Sean cautiously held the chunk to his now crinkled nose. I knew that he would smell a sweet, woodsy musty odor rather like animal musk. I could tell from his expression that he'd been expecting a horrible stench and was pleasantly surprised. He grinned and said; "That's a pretty good smell for whale puke!" I just shook my head and placed the chunk of ambergris back in its display case. That night we lay in bed listening to the fierce tattoo of the hard driven rain outside. I was on my back and he lay on top of me. I was occupied with dancing my tongue against his as our lips crushed into each other. Sean had become a decidedly better kisser and with the improvement in his technique, came an increased desire to participate in that most pleasant of activities. I was not so distracted that I didn't notice his hard little cock pressing into my belly as his hips undulated grinding it subtly against me. I knew what he wanted but was always too shy to ask for. I slid my hands in between us and tapped my shoulders. "Slide up and sit here." I whispered. He quickly was sitting upon my chest and shoulders and I reached around and grasped his firm little ass pulling him up and over until his iron hard little boy prick was in reach of my hungry tongue and lips. I slipped one hand up and spread my fingers across his back while the other remained on his soft bottom. Gently but firmly I bent him over so that his cock slid into my waiting mouth. I closed my lips around the hot little spike while my hand ran along his back and sides massaging and stroking in hard passionate motions as my tongue and lips devoured his hard tool. It only took moments before he was moving in a rhythm to match my sucking and liking. His little ass was rising and falling as he instinctively sought to pump his tiny prick into my all too eager face. I countered this by locking my lips tightly around his hard flesh so that he was forced to take control of his own pleasure. He pumped with increasing speed and energy and I spurred him on by brushing his cock with snake like strokes of my tongue while at the same time teasing his little rosebud with the fingers of the hand that now guided but did not control his humping ass. I could tell by his breathing and the almost agonized noises he was making that he was close. I stroked his little asshole and reached around grasping his scrotum which was pulled tight against his body. I gently tugged and softly stroked the firm tiny sack and he froze for a split second before driving his cock as deep into my mouth as it would go. His body was wracked in spasms and thrusts as he cried out in the euphoria of his massive dry orgasm. Finally, moaning in pleasure, he rolled over and onto his back his face gleaming. We were learning how to give and receive pleasure from each other and when these blissful moments were over, I was tortured by the knowledge that this was in no way helping me to make the intelligent decisions that would all too soon be forced upon me. What in the hell was I supposed to do? When we were naked and in bed together everything seemed all too easy and obvious but I understood that this was the deception of the flesh. I wondered but found no answer here. My mind was torn in a dozen directions when he rolled back over on top of me and slid down my body until he was kneeling between my legs. He lowered his head down to my groin and teasingly swirled his little tongue around my very erect shaft. He raised his face up to look at me. His eyes sparkled in the faint light and his grin was a wicked little boy grin. "I bet this is better than any old ambergris." He giggled before closing his lips around the end of my cock. Sometime later in the darkness as we slept wrapped into each other, the rain stopped and we woke into a morning that glistened gold and green. (To be continued) Thanks for all of the supportive emails and well thought out suggestions. I read all emails and consider all input even though the story may not indicate that I do. I'm sorry that some personal complications caused this to be a short chapter. I'm on a personal commitment to attempt to give you two chapters a week but I will not sacrifice anything in order to do so. Next time, the Seven Samurai will watch the movies and Sean is going to do something that results in serious and unexpected ramifications. Hey...don't forget to contribute to NIFTY so all of this stuff keeps coming at you for free.