Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2013 11:04:08 -0400
From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com>
Subject: Young-but Daily Growing-Part 7

Young but Daily Growing-Part 7

By Eff Del


There is a place in the human heart that is each person's secret
store-room...  An impregnable vault where life's most special moments are
carefully wrapped, boxed and stored to protect them from the ravages of
living and relentlessly passing time.

 This is a safe place and when life has become grey and unspeakably
cold...when the soul feels world weary and burdened, one can retreat into it
and open a box or two of precious memories and smile- Cherishing the bright
pleasure of a thing that- for at least one treasured moment- had blessed us
and made us happy.

The accumulation of THESE rather than of wealth and material processions is
what marks a valued, well lived life.

I felt so full of joy and peace that I wpuld have held him there against me
forever if that had been practical but, of course, it was not.

I ran my hands down his silken back and clasped both tender globes as my
fingertips gently, carefully grazed the soft private inside of his little
crack.

Slowly, sensually I brushed his neck, his cheeks, and his hair with my lips.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply filling my nose with the
unmistakable glorious scent of... Chlorine.

That broke the spell quickly enough.

I lifted him up and stood him on the deck at poolside.

"Ok Buckaroo, time to get this pool smell washed off and get dressed we've
got lots of things to do today!"

I gathered up our clothes and led him into the gym complex adjacent to the
pool.

I guided him to the changing /shower room.

"Sorry these are just regular showers little man" I said with a grin "but
they'll do the job" I tossed him a bar of soap from the cabinet on the wall.

He was soon under a steaming spray lathering up and singing his little
heart out.  I didn't recognize the song he was singing but his voice was so
pure and his singing so enthusiastic I totally enjoyed it.

I was under the showerhead next to him as he stopped singing and spoke very
loudly so that I could hear him;

"You know what Eric? This kind of stinks...I think I really like it better
when we wash each other."

I reached over and lightly smacked his wiggling little ass.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Sorry little man" I said grinning "That was target practice."

"What?"

"I was just trying to see how well I could hit a moving target because your
little butt seems to never stop moving!" I leaned through the spray and
planted a kiss on his head.

Shortly we were toweling each other off.

"So what stuff are we going to do today?"

"Well, here's what I had in mind..." I was busily working the towel through
his wonderful black hair and he was excitedly dancing around little boy
fashion making my job more difficult than it needed to be..

"First off, we're going to drive out to the Sports Club and get you
enrolled as a member and while we're there we can pick up a schedule for
the different up-coming team try outs.

Then, I thought we could have lunch at a little Mexican place I know about.
Then back here we've got a few things we have to do to get ready for Dr.
Swaim on Monday.  That's for starters-how does that sound?"

"Way cool!" he said doing a little hop on the last word".

Very reluctantly I pointed to his clothes.

"Get dressed then."

I guided him back to the elevator.

"We've just got to grab jackets."

Now, Joyous Gaurde is located in the state generally known to have the
absolutely best year round climate in the country but even here January
sometimes gets chilly.

I my thinking was that considering one of the things I had in mind for us
to do today, wearing a jacket was probably a very good idea but, beside
that, I was dying to seem him wear his new leather bomber.

 I opened his closet and pulled the garment I had in mind off its hanger
and handed it to him.

It was a dark brown lambskin A2 style pilot's jacket, its fine leather
burnished to a beautiful antique finish.  It fit him perfectly and he
looked so wonderful wearing it that my heart thumped and my dick got
hard...he was at the same time the sexiest and most beautiful looking little
thing I'd ever seen.

The little devil knew he looked good and he proceeded to perform a series
of "cool" poses just to get me smiling.

 Ducking into my room, I grabbed my (matching) jacket from the closet.
Putting it on, it was my turn to "cool pose" for him which soon had him
laughing hysterically.

Side by side, we two "bad dudes" swaggered downstairs.

We ducked into the kitchen to tell Martha that we wouldn't be there for
lunch and she of course had to cluck over her "handsome darlin' little boy".

"Now you see what you've done?" I jokingly said to Sean. "She USED to fuss
over me that way".

"Tcch! And you USED to be a cute little boy once!" she said.  Martha could
always give better than she got.

I quickly guided Sean out the "family" back door down the pathway and out
to the garage building.

The long garage is where the family automobiles had always been kept.  It
still contained an impressive row of fine vehicles but not what you'd
actually call a "collection".

In my family we tended to use our things not just collect them for the sake
of "having" them.

John was near the workbench at the far wall doing something under the hood
of a deep green 1989 Lincoln Mark VII that had originally been my father's.

John was not just the family driver, he was also a top notch mechanic and
he maintained the small fleet of cars we owned.

"Hi John!" Sean called as soon as he had spotted him.

"Hi Sean!" he responded getting out from under the hood. "Good morning
Eric." (When in informal situations my key employees always used my first
name).

"What are you two cool looking dudes up to?"

"Headed out for a bit John. Is the `red cat' ready to take?"

John smiled at me appreciatively.

"It's about time you decided to take that little monster out for a run.
It's all gassed and ready down there toward the end...Sean my man, you're in
for a treat."

I nodded to him appreciatively and guided Sean down to the far end of the
line of cars.

"Call me if you get in trouble with the cops! I'll come and bail you guys
out!"

"Ohhh my gosh!"... Sean had seen it.

I had only purchased it a few months ago near the end of my dark insanity.

 I'd bought it, driven it home and had not touched it nor set eyes on it
since.

"IT" was a sleek low sexy red Jaguar F type.

 It looked fast just standing there but the 495 HP 5.0 liter V-8 under the
hood made it a road cat err car that very few stock vehicles could catch or
outrun.

Every inch of it screamed "waaaay beyond cool!"

Sean walked up to it and slowly touched it.  The boy, it seemed, knew his
sports cars. He dreamily walked around it his eyes popping and his mouth
opened.  From the other side of the car he looked at me and asked;

"Is this yours?" then he shook his head and gave me a goofy little grin and
said;

"Of Course it's yours! I'm such a dweeb! Are we gonna drive it? Can we take
it out with the top down Eric?"

"That's why I made you wear your jacket little man. Hop in."

I certainly didn't have to tell him twice.  He was in the seat buckled in
and looking around before I even opened the driver's door.

"Almost ready champ." I said reaching into the bag I'd been carrying that
he hadn't even noticed. I pulled out matching grey and brown tweed Ivy
League flat caps and handed one to him as I put on my own. Before he could
react I handed him a pair of black Aviator style sunglasses and of course,
I had a pair for myself.

I gestured at our matching jackets caps and glasses and pronounced;

"This is TODAY'S dress code!" he of course remembered our running joke
about the blue blazer outfits and broke into a huge Sean smile.

The tuned exhaust of the little red beast growled as we sped down the drive
and through the gate.  On the open road Sean squealed with delight as I
worked the shift paddles putting the car through its paces.

Of course I was showing off and we both loved it.

The Deer Run Athletic Club is a very high class but not actually snooty
organization.  Originally set up as a gentleman's hunting club it has
expanded over its 110 year existence to encompass golf, tennis, swimming
and several other sporting activities but no longer engages in hunting.

I was a third generation member.

Among its many activities, it sponsors, maintains and coaches several youth
teams in competitive sports such as swimming, soccer baseball, basketball
and tennis.

These teams consisted of the cream of young local athletes many of whom
were recruited by club scouts- their memberships sponsored by donated
scholarships.

They competed all around the county and were usually very successful.  It
was rare that they didn't have at least of couple of teams in the state
playoffs in any given sport.

Kyle and I had each been members of several Deer Run teams.

Knowing Sean's extraordinary athletic talents I was certain that this was
the place for him.

We roared into the parking lot with Sean laughing hysterically.

"Eric that was just sooo cool!"

He opened his door and hopped out.

 I gazed at him in wonder...this perfect little boy wearing his leather
bomber jacket, black slacks, tweed cap with gorgeous black hair peeking out
from underneath ...his stunning blue/green eyes hidden secretively under very
suave shades.

  "If there is a more beautiful little creature in the world, I don't know
where it might be found. I thought to myself.

With Sean being my legal ward (if only for a year) it was quite simple to
enroll him as a member since he qualified under the category of "legacy".
It was merely a matter of filling out some forms and of course, forking
over some money.

While his membership card was being printed and laminated, I grabbed copies
of the upcoming sports schedules for the season.  Sean looked around.

"We'll come back another time so that you can tour the place. Right now
we've got to get moving."

"Talk about a dress code" he whispered as he nudged me indicating the
several people moving about or seated comfortably  in the lobby- all
wearing blue trousers and dark grey blazers; each with an embroidered
emblem on the chest.

"Don't make too many jokes" I whispered back "That's the club jacket. Yours
will be ready next week...Jacob Struthers is tailoring it for you."

He looked at me quizzically.

"I'm WAY ahead of you kiddo!" I laughed.

I purposely lagged behind him as we headed to the car so I could watch his
little ass move in his tight fitting pants as he walked.

"I am so happy!" I thought to myself. "To think how close I came to losing
this last night."

I sighed deeply as we both got into the Jaguar.

Right on the corner of Avenida de los Arboles which is the main street of
town is "Cochina Alfredo" the best Mexican restaurant in the county as far
as I was concerned.  Though not much to look at, the food was simply
heaven. The place is usually mobbed but today we were lucky and there was
only a light crowd.

I turned to Sean and I could see that his little nose was picking up the
smells wafting from the kitchen in the back of the place.

"You go fill up a couple of bowls with salsa" I said pointing "and meet me
over at that table."

"I'll go get lunch... let me do the ordering for you this first time OK?"

"Kay!" he agreed.

About 20 minutes later we were seated at the plain wooden table tearing
into a fabulous lunch;

Carne Asada burritos San Diego style which is: a giant lightly toasted
flour tortillas over-filled with skirt steak that had been marinated in
lemon and lime juice and diced jalapenos, cut into bite sized pieces and
mixed with finely chopped onions guacamole and sour cream...all rolled into a
large tight package.

 On the side were tiny tubs of hot sauce, a heap of frijoles, rice and Pico
de Gallo salsa.

Sean had lemonade and I had a frosty cold Corona.

There was enough food for even Sean's appetite. As he finished his last
bite, he leaned back in his chair and let out a tremendous loud burp.  It
must have surprised him because his eyes opened wide and he stared at me
looking startled.

"Scuze me!" he exclaimed and then he started giggling uncontrollably.  His
laugh was infectious and soon I was laughing too.  We were still sniggering
as we walked to the car.

"One more stop. It's just down the street." I told him.

We pulled into the parking lot of Greenwold's Sporting Goods.

"I  noticed back at Deer Run that tryouts for the youth swim team are all
next week." I told Sean as we were walking around to the front of the
store.

"The three swim suits we got you at Strother's yesterday are the
`fashionable' type. You'll need a Speedo competition suit because I don't
think they'll let you swim naked in the club pool... as cute as your little
ass happens to be."

He smiled and gave me a shoulder bump just as we entered the store.

An attractive young saleswoman whose name tag identified her as "Terri"
helped us select four suits that she felt might be appropriate and she
directed us to the changing room. I held Sean's jacket, hat and sun glasses
as he scampered into one of the booths.  I was convinced he would have
stripped off and changed right in the middle of the store and not been
bothered a bit about it if I hadn't said anything.

When Sean stepped out from behind the curtain wearing a miniscule black
Speedo, I thought that my heart might stop. He did a cute little pirouette,
took a bow...flashed me a grin and went back in to try on the next suit.

 He modeled all four and in the end we took the black the blue and the
red.  For some reason I didn't like the way the yellow one looked on him.
"Just getting fussy" I thought to myself.

While we strolled through the store, I found and added to our little basket
three pair of swimmer's racing goggles, two regular jockstraps and a
jock/cup combination (marveling that they even made such things in his
small size) I was thinking to myself that with an athletic kid like this
little boy I might as well be prepared.

Although it was winter, the baseball section still caught my eye.

 During his long soliloquy in the limo that first day, Sean had mentioned
that he'd never played organized baseball.  Although the season was far
from being upon us, I thought that having some basic equipment might offer
us the opportunity to fool around and give him a feel for the game...to see
if he liked it.

I selected a couple of boxes of balls and four bats of various length and
weight.

 The real puzzle came down to the glove.  Perusing the excellent selection
I was trying to decide on the best glove for a young athlete who would be a
first time baseball player.  Finally I found a neat little 11.5 third base
closed pouch model that I thought would be ideal.

I had Sean slip it on and I checked the ease with which it opened and
closed.  Feeling around the glove it seemed to fit well although the strap
would need adjusting.  I ruffled Sean's hair just for good measure and
added the glove to our basket.

My eyes were drawn to a far corner of the store and another idea sprang
into my head.

 "Come over here with me Sean." I said as I poked around the shelves until
I found what I was looking for.

"Take off your jacket and try this on kiddo." I handed him a sage green
chunky knit sweater with padded suede patches at the shoulders and elbows.
He slipped it over his head and on. It fit perfectly. He looked at himself
in the mirror and turned to me crinkling up his cute little nose with
curiosity.

"This is a funny looking sweater Eric.  What's it for?"

"You'll find out in a little bit...probably tomorrow" I assured him.

I paid for our purchases and we walked back to the car and we headed
home...with me driving like a madman just to impress an 11 year old boy who
sat in the passenger seat howling with glee.



When we arrived home, I pulled Walter aside to talk to him and Sean and I
went upstairs to hang up our jackets and put away his new stuff.

"Leave that sweater out on the table. You're going to need it tomorrow
and...lose the hat Joe Cool it's just for the sports car."  He grinned, took
it off and tossed it on top of the sweater.

I reached in my hip pocket and held up a rectangle of plastic.  This is
your club membership card.  I'll hold onto it for you right now but later
you'll need it so you can get in and out of the facilities at the club
without me holding your cute little hand.

That got me a "look".

Walter was waiting for us downstairs and the three of us walked out the
"family" door and climbed onto a waiting golf cart that Walter had brought
around.

"What are we doing Eric?" Sean was busting with curiosity.

"We're going to check on `Fish Camp' to make sure everything's OK there." I
answered leaving him as much in the dark as before.

In the northwest corner of the property there is a nice little lake (really
more of a big pond) that My Grandfather was particularly fond of.  Whenever
he needed to be alone to think, "Pa Pop" would bring a fishing pole out
there and "wet a line" (as he used to say). Sometime after my Grandmother
died, Pa Pop had a small cabin built on the north shore.  He christened the
little place "Fish Camp" and it served him and later my father as a perfect
short term get away.

 Grandfather and later my father had the pond stocked with fish every
year.  It had now been four years since it had been stocked but then again,
it had been at least as long since anyone had fished it...with the possible
exceptions of Walter, John and Uncle Phil on rare occasions.

When Dr. Swaim and my father began the first of their several long term
collaborations, Dr. Swaim had somehow discovered Fish Camp and fell in
love.  From then on, disdaining a guest suit in the house, whenever he was
in residence at Joyous Gaurde, he stayed at Fish Camp.  Not even Martha's
cooking could change his mind although he always managed to join us for
dinner at least three times a week.

Though we hadn't actually discussed it when we talked yesterday, I assumed
that the good Doctor would be expecting the usual arraignments. No one had
really used the Fish Camp for years and I was afraid it might not be fit
for habitation but I hadn't taken into consideration Walter's
professionalism, efficiency and common sense.

"I've been sending a small crew out there about every two months to keep
the little place in good repair and reasonably clean." He told me as he
steered the golf cart onto the dirt trail that led to the cabin.  "I was
out there about six months ago on one of my days off and I can tell you the
fish are biting like crazy.  The Professor should be very comfortable and
very pleased."

I turned to my little boy. "Walter just reminded me of a very good point
Sean. Doctor Swaim doesn't like to be called `Doctor", he likes to be
called `Professor'".

"Why?" Sean asked.

"Because he thinks `Doctor' sounds too phony baloney". I answered.

"Ha! As if `Professor" doesn't!" Walter guffawed.

Just then we rounded a corner and my Grandfather's cabin came into view.

I felt a tug at my heart as I looked at the pretty little thing.  My mind
was flooded with warm wonderful memories and I thought to myself; "Except
for the tragedy of the accident, what a wonderful life I've had.  Now
thanks to Sean it's starting to become wonderful again.  How did I get so
lucky?"

Walter stopped the cart and we got out with Sean just busting to look
around. We stepped up onto the stone porch and through the door which was
almost always unlocked,

I had always loved this little place. While not really isolated...how
isolated can you be on 200 acres of fenced in land...the location and the
woods-like nature of the property gave you the feeling of distance and
solitude that was peaceful and comforting.

The cabin though rustic in appearance, was certainly not lacking in the
amenities.  My grandfather enjoyed his creature comforts as much as the
next man.

When you walked through the door you were immediately in the "big room"
which actually was the bulk of the cabin.

The "star" of the room was the huge stone fireplace with a couple of
comfortable chairs flanking the hearth and off to the side of the room was
the "visiting" area with two facing couches and three over stuffed arm
chairs scattered in a casual grouping. In a corner two large primitive
bookcases laden with books and magazines loomed over a desk that I am told
once belonged to my great grandfather and had been used in his first office
in Chicago many, many years ago.

Off from the Big Room were a surprisingly large and well equipped kitchen
and a comfortable dining area.

 The kitchen was well equipped because both my grandfather and my father
knew their way around a stove and both were wizards when it came to
preparing a supper of fresh caught fish. I had never developed more than
rudimentary cooking skills myself but I knew enough to appreciate the
amenities it contained.

Up a simple wooden staircase were the two bedrooms.  Each contained a
comfortable queen sized bed and each had a private bathroom. Both bedrooms
had large windows that looked out over the pond.  My mind flashed me a
memory of waking up on a cool autumn morning just after sunrise, padding
barefoot (and bare assed for that matter) to the window and looking out
watching the mist rise from the surface of the pond.

When my father was born...or so the story goes...Pa Pop had gotten rip roaring
drunk and had proclaimed to the entire household that in honor of his new
son, the little pond would forever more be known as "Lake Eric". Since I
shared my father's name, it wasn't until I was about twelve and heard that
story for the first time that I realized the pond wasn't named after me.

I strolled through the cabin wistfully... remembering.

Then, my mind whisked me back to reality..."I'm daydreaming a lot lately" I
noted to myself.

I concluded that thanks to Walter's diligence all we needed to do was have
a couple of the staff come out here tomorrow to do a quick dusting/cleaning.

While I had been strolling down memory lane, Sean had done a quick
inspection of the cabin and then made his way down to the water's edge. He
was standing (if that boy actually ever stands...bouncing in place is more
like it) talking with Walter who was pointing and gesturing to places in
and around the lake. Most likely talking about fishing I thought and then I
wondered; does the kid know how to fish?

Well, no matter I decided.  If Doctor Swaim comes into his life he'll learn
really fast.

We got back into the golf cart and as we were driving back to the house I
ticked some items off my mental "to-do-list".

"Walter, besides the cleaning we need to send someone into town for
supplies to stock the refrigerator and pantry.  You should get together
with Martha...she'll know what he likes and what he'll need."

Walter drove the cart and nodded his head agreeably...as if HE needed me to
tell him how to do his job.

"Also...that bourbon he's fond of..a couple of cases ought to do for starters
and oh yes: that awful apple schnapps he likes so much.  Better get him a
case or so of that."

  I was going over things in my mind as we drove silently along...electric
vehicles are weird that way.  You get so used to the roaring of internal
combustion engines that the quiet of something like a golf cart almost
seems to be missing something.

"And Walter, before I forget, would you tell Andy to meet us tomorrow
morning at the gun shed? About 9:30 would be good. Got to get Sean prepared
for the Professor."

Sean was looking at us totally confused.  I hugged him to me and laughingly
said;

"Tomorrow Kiddo.  You'll understand it all tomorrow."

"Oh yes Sean," Walter chuckled "As the Professor himself is fond of saying
`All shall be revealed'" and he laughed heartily...when he's not busy being
"Mr. Efficient Butler", Walter is a great guy to hang around with.

Dinner was a real treat.  Martha had prepared her special Spaghetti
Carbonara.

While Sean had never had this dish, he knew a good thing when he saw and
smelled it.

 He smiled up at Martha as she placed a large steaming plate in front of
him.

Both Martha and I watched with happy anticipation as he lifted a forkful of
the perfectly al dente pasta with big chunks of prosciutto all dripping in
a gooey heavenly cheese and cream sauce.

He took a bite closed his eyes and smiled from ear to ear.

"Man, Mrs. Edwards! Man! I never tasted anything this good in my WHOLE
ENTIRE life!" he enthused.

Martha and I smiled and he proceeded to attack his dinner.

I had opened a bottle of a pretty nice pinot noir from Napa, California.
After filling my glass, I filled another glass about ¾ full and offered it
to Sean.  He gave me a quizzical look and then took a sip.  He gave me a
funny little look but didn't say anything.  I noticed that he didn't touch
the glass again for the rest of the meal preferring to stick to water.

I knew that tiramisu MUST to be coming for desert but Sean didn't nor did
he know what it was when Martha placed it in front of him but it only took
a split second for him to learn how good it was.

"Mrs. Edwards! Mrs. Edwards! You're the greatest cook in the whole world!"
he exclaimed jumping up and wrapping his arms around her (as far as they
would go) and hugging her tightly. She just beamed and "tsk tskd".

"What would you like to do before bed time little man? Would you like to
watch some TV?"

"I don't much like TV Eric.  We don't watch it a lot at the NEST usually we
read or play games."

"What types of game do you like Sean?"

"I like chess. Do you play chess Eric?"

"In fact I do little man.  Follow me."

For as long as I could remember, the little area to the left of the
fireplace in the library had been the "chess corner ".

 Two overstuffed chairs faced each other over a small antiques oak table.
To the side of each chair was a personal side table for holding drinks or
whatever and the game set was always out on the table.

The board was marquetry; exquisitely inlaid thin veneers of dark and  light
wood that I have never been able to identify, surrounded by a band of
matched veneers in a deceptively simple herring bone pattern.

The pieces themselves were individually carved from dark ebony and light
ivory yellowed from age.  The set was very old and very beautiful.  It had
served at least four generations of my family perhaps more.

While I poured myself a snifter of cognac, Sean hopped up into one of the
chairs. By the time I was seated across from him, he had selected one pawn
each; a white and a black and closed a little hand around each. He reached
out across the board  offering his closed hands to me... I tapped the left.
He opened that hand and it held the black pawn: Sean had first move.

He moved his first piece quickly and I countered with almost no
hesitation.  We each moved determinedly in this manner for 4 moves by which
point each of us had lost one inconsequential pawn.

The pace of the game slowed down considerably as I moved against him for
the 4th time carefully planning my strategy.  I was astonished.  While I am
most certainly not "master" class, I am much more than competent at the
game.  I seldom lose to a casual opponent but this little boy had me on my
toes.  I was thinking and planning unusually hard for this early in the
match.

"I must have Sean going though" I thought to myself.  He was leaning over
the board on his elbows, his head resting in his hands his little face a
picture of concentration.

I glance up at the clock.

"OK little man. It's way late.  We'll leave the game just as it is and we
can pick up where we left off tomorrow."

He didn't protest. He sat up and smiled at me.

"You're a very good player Eric."

"It would seem that so are you little man."

We walked upstairs chatting casually about our day. The ugliness of last
night was never mentioned and I marveled at our comfortable ease with each
other.

As we entered the bedroom I told him that we would skip a bath or a shower
tonight and just hit the hay it had been a very long day.

As we undressed I could see something was troubling him.

"What's up Sean?" I asked.

"I was just thinkin' that you haven't showed me where I wash my clothes."

"What?"

"I'm getting to have a pile of dirty clothes and you haven't shown me where
the washer and dryer are."

Ah...the discipline of the Academy I thought to myself.

I sat down on the bed and motioned him over to me.  I picked him up and sat
him on my lap (a first for us).

"Sean, you need to understand this.  I'm rich. In fact I'm VERY rich.
There are some things that I pay people to do for me one of those is to
wash and dry my clothes. Every morning you just need to put your dirty
clothes in the hamper behind the door in the bathroom and they will be
collected, washed and put away for you. This doesn't make us better than
the people who do this for us it just means that's part of their job. It
doesn't mean that you should leave your stuff lying all over the place and
expect someone to pick up after you.  It doesn't mean you should expect
people to do simple things that you should be doing for yourself...like
hanging up your jacket this afternoon.

 I know this is still all new to you but I'll try to help you understand as
time goes by OK?"

He was leaning back into me as I talked his head nuzzled under my chin.

"Kay." He said softly.

I put him down on his feet and looked at him.  He was wearing only a pair
of grey boxer briefs that hugged his body like a second skin. "Damn!" I
thought "I guess Jacob was right about the choice of underwear after all.

I stood up and turned down the covers on the bed, picked up my precious
little boy and laid him down with his head on a pillow and reached down for
the waistband of his under pants he raised his hips to allow me to slip
them down and off.  I tossed the tiny garment to into the corner, stepped
out of my own skivvies and lowered the lights to "almost dark".

I slipped into bed and pulled him over and on top of me. His little head
was on my chest and he wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I moved
my hand slowly, stroking and feeling the sleek smoothness that was his
skin. His little body was relaxed and felt as if it was molding itself to
mine.  My right hand gently kneaded his little shoulder blades while the
fingers of my left hand played softly and teasingly with his tiny ass
occasionally gliding through his crack and brushing against his secret spot.

I breathed in deeply this time smelling only the intoxicating scent of
boy...pure wonderful boy.

He breathed deeply but he didn't move. Without raising or even turning his
head he said very softly;

"Eric, you're the best friend I ever had."

Instantly my eyes were flooded and my throat dried and tightened. I
squeezed him tightly to me trying to almost make him a part of me...surely he
could feel my heart beating.

I knew.

How could it possibly be? It's been such a short time...it's not possible...but
I knew.

In a low throaty voice I whispered to him;

"I love you little man. I love you my little Sean."

(to be continued)

Thanks for all of your wonderful emails!  Your thoughts and comments keep
me going and make this fun to do.

In the next chapter we're killing clay birds, getting a massage and having
a BIG sex talk.

PLEASE don't forget that NIFTY needs your contributions to keep this all
free and happening.


-Eff