From: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 4 Sep 1993 00:06:18 UTC
Subject: PLAYING IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES (man/boy)
PLAYING IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES (REVISED PART 1)
WARNING:
This story will contain descriptions of a variety of sexual
acts between men and MINOR boys. Violence and inter-racial relation-
ships occur thoughout. The story is NOT intended to be racist but
is a 'realistic' portrayal of the life of a young Puerto Rican boy
as he grows up and discovers that his 'preferred partners' are of
his own sex.
If this subject offends you, or you are under 18, do not read
further! You have been warned!
COPYRIGHT:
Copyright is held by the author at an27868@anon.penet.fi.
September, 1993. Fair use consists of copying and distributing
via electronic means in the public domain only. In printed media,
copyright protection remains for more than individual copies.
COPIES OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS:
Requests for earlier chapters etc. will not be met, primarily
because of respect for the laws of other countries and the desire
not to excessively burden the anonymous server in Finland.
If you are missing some part(s) please contact the mail
server at laff which is mentioned regularly in this newsgroup.
I will only post out missing chapters if there is a good reason.
FACT OR FICTION:
The story is entirely fiction. It did not happen although
there is some probability that a story like this has happened in the
past. Any resemblance to individuals, alive or dead, is unfortunate!
REPLIES,SUGGESTIONS,ETC:
E-mail comments and criticisms to an27868@anon.penet.fi,
or post to alt.sex.stories.d. I will generally respond to all
sincere email. Your support and suggestions are both welcomed and
appreciated. Please do not post here! Please feel free to comment
or point me towards ftp sites for similar stories.
SPECIAL THANKS:
An anonymous reviewer has my special thanks. This individual
had edited the work, suggested a wide of variety of changes and
otherwise assisted in its production. Thank You! You know who you
are.
FINAL WARNING:
If you're under 18, or man-boy relationships aren't your
thing then exit now!
PLAYING IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES
Prologue (revised)
This morning I awoke slowly and gradually became aware of the
boy lying half over me. His arm was draped casually over my chest
and his leg was thrown over my legs. His face pressed against my
shoulder and his cheek was hot against my skin. I could feel his
moist breath against my skin as his chest moved rhythmically,
though the movement was barely visible unless I looked closely. The
boy stirred even as I watched and his body pressed closer to mine.
A slight tremble passed through him like a little quiver and then
he settled down again as he went back to sleep, his body unmoving
again.
For a long while I looked at the boy lovingly. His dark hair
glistened in the early morning light as it filtered though the
trees outside the window, steadily getting lighter as morning came.
The boy's hair is the color of dark mahogany, not black, but a rich
dark brown. His hair is long and slightly curly, soft like silk
though with a surprising amount of body. This morning, like any
other morning, it lay tousled on the white pillow and over my
shoulder. Although his eyes were closed, I could see the movement
of his eyes beneath eyelids that are almost translucent. His
eyebrows are long and thin and very dark, almost feminine. The
boy's lips are pale and full and he has perfectly shaped white
teeth.
His skin is much darker than mine. His body is golden-bronze
color from head to toe, not even a shade lighter at his thighs and
hips because for the last two months he has spent almost every
afternoon in the nude. He tans beautifully, but he has the
advantage of his heritage. His rich dark tan comes from our time
together on Phaenon. I should explain that Phaenon is our 34 foot
yacht. Built in Canada and engineered to one of the highest
standards in the world, the boat is something Rafael and I have
come to treasure for the wonderful times that we have shared aboard
it. This summer we spent two and a half glorious months cruising
down the Inter-Coastal Waterway to Florida, and then across to the
Bahamas and the other islands of the Caribbean. We returned only
two days ago.
This morning as I looked at him, I decided that he is
incredibly beautiful, but then I'm biased. I have watched people's
heads turn and look at him when we are out together. I have seen
both men and women, and a vast number of girls stare at the
beautiful boy and I know that they are attracted to him, enamored
of the boy with the lithe graceful body. I suppose they wonder
whether I am his father or merely a friend. As I watched his gentle
breathing I gently brushed the smooth satin skin of his small bare
shoulder with my hand. He always feels deliciously warm and his
body seems to glow with energy and life. His skin is perfectly
smooth with the silky oiliness of a child, a dry warmth emanating
from a lustrous brown body.
I know that sooner or later I must write this all down. He is
growing up. My first memories of the boy are already less certain
now and the details grow more hazy every passing day. This morning,
as I lay back in the pillows and looked at my beautiful young boy
I decided to begin. The story that follows is based upon what I
have discovered myself, from what Rafael has told me, and from what
can be reasonably supposed about his life before I came to know
him. The story is a long one. It's also a sad story though it is
one which needs to be told. Too many people don't understand, or
don't want to understand. So, this morning I picked up a writing
pad and began to write. This is the story of another way to live.
It is the story of a boy who discovered that he could play in the
major leagues. Most of the names of people, the clinic, and the
institution where Rafael lived have been changed, though the
protection I have given them is undeserved in all but one case.
++++++
This wonderful young boy, now eleven years and four months
old, came into my life at a time when I needed desperately him, or
someone like him. After my divorce and fourteen years of marriage
I experienced an intense loneliness. Rafael has lived with me for
the last thirteen months. They have been the happiest months of my
life. For all but four nights of that time Rafael has slept in my
bed. Those first four nights are something both of us will never
forget. Every night the boy screamed, his nightmare returning and
growing more terrifying until he finally awoke in terror. Each
night his small body was drenched in sweat, covered with a wet film,
his sheets damp. Each time he awoke he cried for hours, sobbing
onto my shoulder as I held him tightly. From the story he told me
that first night, and the three nights that followed, I pieced
together most of what I know. On the fifth night I brought Rafael
to my bedroom and for the first time Rafael slept through the night.
He still wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking,
sometimes crying, though his nightmares have become increasingly
less frequent. The last one was more than two months ago. I hope
that it was the last. In some ways Rafael is a very lucky boy, in
others, he has not been so lucky. The boy and I share a secret. It
is a very special secret that we dare not share with anyone who
knows us. The reader will understand when I say that Rafael does
more, much more, than merely sleep in my bed.
We live in my condominium on an island on the East Coast. There
is a spectacular view of the marshes and the Inter-Coastal
Waterway. Our boat is moored outside, less than twenty five feet
from the terrace. There are two bedrooms. The bedroom that Rafael
and I share is on the second floor and it opens via a cathedral
ceiling to the living room below. There is a sunny though very
private deck next to the bedroom and I had a jacuzzi installed there
shortly after Rafael came to live with me. We often use it before
we go to bed. The other bedroom is made up and to any visitor it
is the room of a normal eleven-year-old boy. Rafael often plays in
there when I am working in the study. As far as Rafael's friends
know, I am his uncle.
+++++
The boy stirred again and I put down the writing pad because
he is close to waking up, though not yet. This time his fingers
closed and pulled me towards him. At the same time, his small brown
thighs pressed into my hip. I know that his dream intensified
because he whimpered slightly. His naked body tensed slightly and
then relaxed as his breathing quickened. I felt the moist heat of
his groin and his small rigid cock squeezing alive and strong
between us. I kissed Rafael gently on the forehead and smoothed his
hair back as I kissed his cheek. As I looked down at him I hoped
that the boy was dreaming of me. I wanted desperately to wake him,
to hold him tightly and whisper my love to him. Then the boy pulled
away slightly and moaned quietly. His breathing quickened and then
he strained harder against me as his small buttocks clenched. His
body tensed, then suddenly he writhed in unconscious ecstasy. His
body arched and his slender legs kicked back the sheet. His
buttocks pressed back again pushing his groin harder against my
leg. I grinned as I looked along the boy's slender, still immature
body. The sheet was bunched at his knees and revealed most of his
naked body. I could see his aroused cock poking rudely out from his
little mounded pubis. The tiny blue-purple veins were swollen in
the boy's penis. Even when it's fully erect, Rafael's penis is
short, still a bit less than three inches long. The rounded
delicate glans is hidden by the boy's foreskin. That little piece
of skin is still very tight and comes almost to a point, leaving
just a wrinkled little orifice. When retracted, the head of his
penis is like a tiny bell, its sensitivity enhanced by the
protection of his foreskin. Rafael's balls are still very small for
an eleven-year-old boy.
This morning, his scrotum was tightened up into a firm little
knot beneath his penis but usually it's loose with little soft
folds as it hangs below his penis. Whenever I look closely at Rafael
I get sad. This morning I sighed as I felt the sadness return and
my desire for the beautiful boy was momentarily overwhelmed. Rafael
is too perfect, too wonderful, too alive, to never enjoy fully that
part of his magnificent body, to never experience the heightened
feelings that come with maturity. The tiny testicles inside his
little pouch are spongy and are unnaturally soft for a young boy.
Although the extent of the damage that was done to him is still
unclear, in a few years, when Rafael is fourteen, we will know more.
I have always hoped that he was not injured as badly as the doctor
suspected. I sighed again and lay back in the pillows, confused,
sad and angry. I wanted the boy more than I could stand, but somehow
I am usually able to resist the urge to wake him.
+++++
"Hi!", Rafael whispers sleepily as he presses forward against
me again. I grin as I look back at him and put my note-pad down
beside the bed.
"Hi beautiful," I smile, "You were having a real dirty dream
again." I tease.
Rafael smirks and glances downward, along his slender body.
Like most mornings his little penis is sticking out straight and
parallel to his lower belly, "Huh? Yeah! I guess he is pretty stiff,
huh?", he acknowledges and then adds with a sleepy smile, "So why
didn't you wake me up?"
I shrug and then I tease him again. "I like watching you. So
what happened? It looked like you were really enjoying it."
The boy giggles, somewhere between innocence and obscenity,
then changing to the later he whispers, "Let's fuck, okay? I'll
tell you later."
I smile at the boy's vulgar desire expressed so shamelessly
and so openly. Rafael is only eleven and he is still physically
immature but he is also easily and often aroused. Perhaps it is
because of his age but his crude and uninhibited lust seems
playfully innocent. Sometimes I think that it is still a game to
him. Rafael sits up grinning cheekily, ready and eager to play.
"Come on," he teases, as he reaches his small warm hand down and
grasps my penis tightly, "Lemme get him real hard first, okay?"
+++++
But although he is playful, Rafael is anything but innocent.
Others before me have seen to that. I know very little about the
boy before he was ten years old and what Rafael remembers he prefers
to try to forget. From what he has told me I know that his first
sexual experience occurred before he was eight years old. There
have been many more in the years that followed.
From his file at Centerville Planation, the home for boys
where he has spent about five years of his life, I learned the
following. Rafael was the child of a Puerto Rican woman and a father
that he never knew. His father may have been American but there is
no record of the father on his birth certificate. From Rafael's
coloring and physical appearance I think the man was white, because
his complexion, while dark, is not as dark as most Puerto Ricans.
At the age of four the boy was abandoned at a state-run day
care center. His mother left him there while she went to look for
a job, at least that was her story at the time. His mother did not
return in the afternoon and in the years that followed, never came
back to get him. Rafael has never heard what happened to her. While
I suspect that she died from a drug overdose I really don't know.
Rafael's birth record indicates her age to be sixteen so that she
would have been twenty when she disappeared. From what I have been
able to find out, there was no attempt to locate her beyond checking
police reports. She has never tried to communicate with her son.
Young Rafael was immediately placed with foster parents for about
a year. For some reason, unknown to me, he was returned to the care
of the State of Florida and for a period of more than three years
Rafael lived at Centerville Plantation, a boy's home in the Miami
area.
The only photograph I have of Rafael during those years shows
him with three other boys. He is skinny with a shy smile, somewhere
between six and seven years old. His dark hair is closely cropped,
'Marine Style', but there is the same unmistakable beauty, the
delicately sculptured features, the small ears and nose, the big
eyes that reflect an innate intelligence. Even as a little boy
Rafael was beautiful. His skinny little body is perfectly
proportioned and his dark-hued skin is unblemished. His fine soft
features have not changed in five years beyond becoming even more
beautiful. But what is startling about the photograph is the boy's
expression as he looks towards the camera and radiates an intensity
that is unexpected in a young child. He is dressed in shorts and a
white tee shirt. He is still innocent, a perfect child in every way.
A few months before his eighth birthday Rafael was again
placed in a foster home. At that time Rafael was a very lonely boy,
starved for affection and desperate for love. There was little love
available for the boy at Centerville and when love and affection
were finally proffered to him it came in the form of the 'foster'
father taking Rafael by the hand and leading the boy into his
bedroom. Whether Rafael went willingly I don't know though I
suspect that he did. The 'foster' father convinced the boy to
remove his jeans and underpants and then proceeded to masturbate
him. The next time occurred within only a few days. Again the man
brought the boy to his bedroom. This time the man sucked on the
little boy's penis as well as masturbating him. It was the only
love and affection that Rafael had known in almost eight years and
he responded positively, enjoying the gentle touches that made his
young body feel good. The next time occurred quickly, again within
a few days. By now the man had grown increasingly confident. He
undressed the boy and then proceeded to remove his own clothes.
What happened then is unclear but I suspect that the boy was
initiated into physical contact as a willing participant, though
one whose emotional needs at the time were overwhelming. All I know
is that Rafael told me that she (the 'foster' mother) surprised the
two of them naked on the bed. She was terribly angry, slapped and
screamed very loudly at the boy, calling him a 'whore' and a 'filthy
little bastard'. Rafael still remembers crying most of the night,
his little face still burning from her attack.
The next day Rafael was returned to Centerville Plantation.
His file was marked N.A. and dated February 12, 1990,in the upper
right hand corner of the front cover. I have since discovered that
this marking is intended to identify children that are not
available for adoption, although the more I think about it the more
I am convinced that there is an alternative meaning, one that is
far more devastating than one could imagine.
Rafael has talked about the events that occurred during the
two years that followed while he lived at Centerville. At first
they were painful memories that evoked tears and some anger from
the boy and myself but we have gradually come to realize that it
is the events of that period of time that brought the two of us
together. For that I am thankful.
++++
Rafael sits up again, he grins cheekily, his small hand half-
enclosing my erect cock. He smirks, still very playful, his sexual
desire increasing every second. "I love him", he teases gently. "I
love him bunches and bunches. I want you to put him inside me."
I smile, still lying back on the bed as the naked brown-
skinned boy straddles me. "He's still not that hard", I laugh as I
lovingly tousle his dark soft hair.
The boy giggles and shrugs and squeezes his hand at the base
of my cock. Instantly he makes it almost painfully hard as he
compresses the shaft. "Yes he is, he's plenty hard enough," he
laughs. I give the boy a resigned look and breathe out with a long
sigh, feigning boredom. The boy smirks, "Yeah! Yeah! I know! Okay,
first we play around, then you fuck me."
Rafael squats over above my chest, his little bronzed buttocks
facing toward me while he faces toward my legs. For a few delightful
moments he caresses my cock lightly with just the silky touch of
his finger tips, then more vigorously. His small strong fingers
begin to expertly massage and tease it erect. I have already been
hard for what seems most of the morning, my cock aching as I watched
Rafael sleep, then dream. Now, his little fingers rub away the dry
streaks of his mucus, a thin crusty film that was evidence of what
we'd done the night before.
He leans forward and opens his mouth, keeping his pale lips
apart as he lowers himself forward to embrace the head of my cock
with his pink soft tongue. I feel the soft wet point probe into the
narrow slit of my cock and try to force its way inside. Rafael's
tongue floats around and around the head, then sinks down slightly
so that my cock goes between his lips. After just a few seconds he
pulls away and feels my cock again with his tongue. The boy's tongue
is like velvet. It is soft, yet firm. It is wet and hot, and like
Rafael, very alive. I sense him inhaling the sweet musky odor of
his own body as his fingers begin to fondle my balls, still playful
in their firm squeezes and gentle tugs.
I reach forward and my hands part the boy's small firm cheeks
wide open to reveal his crack, the crevice marked by an almost
invisible line that runs from the underside of his tiny ball-sac
and along the center-line of his body until it finally disappears
as it reaches his spine. Rafael's opening is still loose as it
always is in the mornings. It is still slightly dilated though it
had tightened up considerably during the night. There is no longer
a dark ring around it. The dark purple of bruises disappeared many
months ago and what remains is the pinkish brown flesh of his anus
as it opens into his rectum without the puckered lips that normally
would be present at the anal-verge an eleven-year-old boy. Just
inside his anus the flesh glistens, still moist from the KY and the
juices that we mingled deep inside him the night before. There is
a primal smell, a sweet raw odor, that comes from the forbidden
love of a man and boy. In the year we've spent together I have come
to savor the wonderful taste of our union. The succulent juices of
our love, the boy's rectal mucus and my semen mixed together,
remain after my cock finally pulls free of the exhausted boy.
Now my tongue presses forward and I caress the length of his
deep crevice, seeking the hot private enclosure inside him as I
taste him. The looseness of his opening draws my tongue in and
absorbs me into his hot wet softness inside. His buttocks press
back instinctively and eagerly demand more as my tongue penetrates
deeper and easily pushes past the ring of his anus. At the same
time the young boy's mouth slides downwards slowly taking more of
my cock, his lips making a similar band around my cock.
His odor overwhelms me, the intimacy making us both tremble
with delight as our bodies start to move in unison. My cock is now
embedded several inches into his mouth and my tongue is inside his
rectum as far as it can go. Finally, I can stand it no longer and
my hand slips down between us and reaches up between his legs. I
grasp his little balls tightly and begin to rub gently. His scrotum
is loose and delicate and feels like the softest, smoothest thing
imaginable. Rafael winces as I increase the pressure gradually,
using my hand that enclose his balls to guide the movements of the
rest of his body. I tug back gently so that he squirms his hips and
pushes back into my face and then I pull forward so that he takes
more of my cock into his mouth.
After just a few minutes Rafael begins to tremble and shudder
involuntarily every couple of seconds. When he can no longer stand
the painful pleasure he tries to pull away, even as droplets of
pale yellow urine dribble from the puckered end of his cock onto
my chest. The boy's balls tighten into a small wrinkled lump and
his cock softens, relaxing and shrivelling as the boy's maleness
submits to the urgent hunger that is growing ever stronger inside
his trembling young body. When he stops moving, my own orgasm is
just seconds away. For a second or two I think about maintaining
the rhythm but Rafael had other ideas.
"Do it with your cock now," Rafael pleads anxiously. His high
pitched voice is demanding and urgent.
I grin as I playfully roll the naked, very excited eleven-
year-old boy off me and onto his side. I reach for the KY on the
night-stand. The top is still off from the night before. Rafael
looks back over his shoulder and watches with visible enjoyment.
His eyes shine with anticipation and reflect his intense desire. I
lubricate the length of my cock, but especially the flared head
where it will be needed the most. Then I position myself behind the
boy as he draws his slender tanned legs upward to his chest. My
cock glistens with the clear jelly, incredibly hard as it throbs,
now very hungry for the beautiful naked boy before me. What we share
is somewhere between love and lust.