Date: Sat, 1 Jun 2013 05:32:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pok Bepxtep <pok_bepxtep (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: Sander Chapter 1
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Disclaimer
----------
I don't know why I should add one... If you're here, it means you don't
really mind reading erotic stories about adults and boys. But I'm still
gonna do it, cause it's something people seem to do around here.
Anyhoo: do bear in mind that this story is purely fiction and that nothing
like this has ever happened nor will ever happen... Well, at least not in
my life. There's a huge step between writing down sexual fantasies like
this and actually doing it. That's a step I'm not willing to take, because
I would never take the risk of hurting a boy in any way. Besides, I have a
hard time believing there's boys that young who're actually interested in
doing this kinda thing.
Chapter 1: A New Beginning
--------------------------
After over five years of working for Shinku, a Japanese firm producing
climate control systems with a factory here in Belgium, I finally saved up
enough money to by myself a small house. It's only a small house, but it
meets with my needs. I'm single and I don't need much space, except to
store my collection of cd's and dvd's. That's where the second, smaller
bedroom of the house comes in handy. Furthermore, there's a cosy living
room, with a lounge that sits a bit higher than the diner, a nice, tidy
kitchen that has just been refurnished and a bathroom with a shower. The
house stands on the corner of the street and the garage where my car will
sleep at night is around the corner. In between there's a small courtyard
that can take a table and two chairs to enjoy the few hot summer days this
country has outside. No real garden to maintain, which I don't like doing
anyway.
The past few weeks I've been spending the weekends redecorating the
place. All it really needed was a fresh coat of paint to cover up the
old-fashioned wallpaper the elderly couple had left behind and some new
IKEA furniture I put together with the help of my older brother. There's a
few spare screws on the dining room table as proof of that. Today, it's
time to fill up the kitchen cabinets with cutlery and to move the last bits
of my stuff into the house. Nothing too heavy, so I will pretty much manage
on my own, even if it takes me all weekend.
Thus I found myself this Saturday afternoon, a few weeks before Easter,
carrying loads of cd's, dvd's and books, stuffed in whatever plastic or
cardboard box I could find, into the house and up to the second
bedroom. Putting everything in racks would be something for either the day
after or the following weekend, depending on how long I'd need to get
everything moved in. Luckily I'd been able to rent a small van from someone
at work, spacious enough to only need one ride from my parents' home to my
place. Not that the distance was that big, but I wanted to avoid driving
back and forth as much as possible. The weather for early spring was pretty
nice, a welcome change from the many days of rain and showers we'd had
recently. The temperature was pleasant and the sun was shining
brightly. The perfect day to finish moving into my precious little
home. Until...
I was picking the umpteenth box of cd's out of the van and turned towards
the gate when I heard a panicking voice call out to me.
"Watch out!!!" the voice yelled.
Of course the warning came much to late. By the time I knew from where the
shoo came, someone bumped into in a pretty high speed, causing me to drop
the box. As the cd's scattered all over the pavement, I barely managed to
keep to my feet. The initial shock slowly faded when I saw whoever had
collided with me lose his balance and crash land on the concrete tiles. My
first reaction was to inspect the damage to the box I'd dropped and the
cd's that had flung out of it. The cardboard of the box, which hadn't been
to strong to begin with, had torn apart at the bottom, making the number of
disks spread and out their cases quite substantial. Anger slowly built up
inside me and the person who'd hit me was about to be introduced to my dark
side. With steam coming out of my ears, I turned to the culprit, ready to
send his ass to kingdom come. But that never happened.
My anger must have shown brightly to the one who'd knocked the box out of
my hands, because the eyes staring back at me were full of fright, the
corners filling up with tears. Normally I wouldn't have cared one bit about
that, but when I saw that those watery eyes belonged to the most beautiful
boy I'd met, my heart soon melted and the storm raging inside me blew away
faster than last week's rainclouds. I sighed deeply to get the anger out of
my system and replaced it with sympathy.
I took a quick moment to examine the boy's situation. Besides being afraid
of how I'd react to his crashing into me, I noticed the rollerblades on his
feet, explaining the speed he'd hit me with and why he hadn't been able to
avoid the collision. I realized that the combination of that speed and the
impact with the concrete pavement might have caused some injury, as well,
but the fear for my reaction seemed to be overpower any sense of pain he
might feel. So, my first priority was to put the boy's mind at ease.
"Are you okay, kid?" I asked in a friendly voice.
"Uhuh... Yeah, I think so," he nodded, sniffing.
"You sure? You smashed down quite hard, there," I said.
"My knee's a bit sore, but it's not too bad," he told me, rubbing his
knee. He then looked down to observe the mess my cd's were in. "Sorry about
that," he apologized, pointing at the heap in front of me.
I briefly looked down where he pointed and sighed, knowing it would take me
a while to clean up, hopefully without finding too many of the disks
damaged. I looked back to where the kid was sitting and
shrugged. "Accidents happen, buddy," I said, trying to ease his
worries. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt too badly."
The boy seemed to relax a bit. He wiped his tears away with his sleeve and
reached down to his feet. He unlaced his blades, took them off and slowly
got up on his sock clad feet. "I was afraid you would get mad at me," he
confessed as he stood in front of me, holding his blades.
"I was, at first," I admitted. "But I didn't know who'd hit me, yet. For
some reason, seeing you sitting down there, my anger went away right away."
"How come?" the boy asked confused.
"I could tell you were a bit afraid of me, as if I was about to eat you
alive," I explained. "But I could also tell you weren't a bad kid, so I
became concerned with how you felt, so I calmed down pretty
quickly. Besides, I don't want to move into the neighborhood and develop a
reputation of being a jerk."
The child smiled at my last remark and then said: "I don't think you're a
jerk."
"Why, thank you, buddy," I chuckled. "My reputation is still intact, then."
"Yep," the boy nodded, his fears already forgotten. He then looked down
again for a second and then turned back to me. "I'll be right back," he
then said and turned around, darting off before I could ask what he
intended to do.
The kid was around the corner in a split second, leaving me with the next
problem at hand. I kneeled down and started picking up the c.d.'s. Luckily,
only a few of the cases had come open and the disks that had gotten out
weren't damaged too badly. The biggest problem was the cardboard box that
was completely ruined. That meant I would have to go inside, empty one of
the boxes I'd already carried upstairs and coming back to gather these
ones. But I didn't want to leave the cd's in front of me unguarded. I got
back up on my feet, trying to come up with a solution. Just as I was about
to put the cd's into the van, I heard footsteps coming from around the
corner. I looked up into the direction of the sound and found the boy
sprinting towards me, now wearing a pair of worn down sneakers and carrying
a couple of cardboard boxes in his hands.
"Here," he said, dropping the boxes next to the heap of c.d.'s. "You can
put them in these."
"Oh, wow, thanks," I answered, happy as well as surprised with the boy's
offer.
"It's pretty much my fault you dropped them," he said. "So I had to help
you out."
"That's very kind of you, buddy," I smiled gratefully.
Surprising me once more, the kid than kneeled down and started picking up
the cd's and put them inside the boxes. I was about to tell him he needn't
do that, but the assistance was welcome. On top of that, the assistance
came from a very nice young boy who I was starting to like more and
more. Even if it would only be for a short period of time, I was going to
enjoy having the kid near me. When all of the cd's that had dropped were
put into the boxes, we both got back up on our feet. I was about to thank
the kid for his help when he stooped down to pick up one of the boxes.
"Where do they go?" he simply asked, holding the box in front of him.
"Errr... upstairs," I answered. "But you don't have to do that. You already
helped me more than enough."
"But I want to," he said. "I don't really have anything else to do,
anyway. Unless you don't want me to come inside."
How could I refuse? I'd be an idiot if I declined the boy's offer to help
me carry the cd's inside. Maybe the extra bit of time together would allow
me to get to know him a bit better. Besides, it didn't seem as if the boy
would take no for an answer.
"Upstairs," I simply answered. "Follow me."
And with the kid tailing me I walked through the garage, across the
courtyard, through the kitchen and the living room, up the stairs and into
the second bedroom where the rest of my stuff were sitting in boxes on the
floor.
"Put them down where you find a spot," I instructed my new partner.
"Wow, you sure got a lot," he whistled as he briefly looked around and then
put the box down. "Aren't you putting them in their racks?"
"Not yet," I said. "That's something for next week, I think."
"Uhuh," the boy simply nodded and then walked out of the room. "Better go
get the rest, huh."
"Yes sir," I chuckled. Apparently, the boy had his mind set on helping me
all the way. I was not complaining.
The next couple of hours, both the boy and me went back and forth between
the van and the second bedroom. We quickly forgot about our unfortunate
collision earlier and started talking about this and that. Along the way, I
got to know a couple of things about him.
Sander. That was the boy's name. Sander was nine years old and would turn
ten during the summer. He lived with his grandmother Annie only a few
hundred yards from my place, which explained why he'd made it back with the
boxes so fast. His parents had died in a terrible car crash when he was
only two, so he barely remembered them. His grandmother, who was still only
in her late 50's, was a third grade teacher at the local school.
Although he seemed pretty quiet, Sander was a fan of all kinds of
sports. He played football (soccer, as you Americanos call it), went
swimming with one of the kids also living in the area and loved skating, as
I already found out. He explained how he'd just come back from a makeshift
skatepark the community had laid out not too far from where we lived. I'd
actually seen that skatepark when I'd taken my bike out for a spin to
explore my new neighborhood. As we carried my stuff up to the bedroom, he
showed an interest in some of the movies I had. I made a mental note to
invite him to join me for one of my movie nights, some day.
The time we spent moving my gear in also gave me the chance to study his
looks. Sander was a handsome little kid, a tad bit shorter than your
average nine year old, or so I thought. It's not like I know that many nine
year old boys to compare him with. He had lovely blonde hair that came down
halfway his neck and enveloped his face like a vail. It gave him an angelic
appearance and I thought it was cute how he would brush a strand of hair
away from his face every now and then. His eyes were a radiant shade of
blue, not unlike topaz. They shone brightly in the sunlight and had a
hypnotic effect on me whenever I dared look into them a bit longer. That
effect was multiplied by the cheerful smile that often appeared on his
lips, the sound of his typically boyish high voice and the occasional
giggle that followed a humorous intervention.
The built of Sander's body was what you'd expect of a nine year old boy. I
estimated him to be about 125 cm (4ft3) and close to 30 kg (66 lbs) which
made him a slim, healthy looking kid, abundant with energy. Even though he
only managed the lighter boxes, he did more than his share of the
work. Dressed in a red and black track suit that he was slowly starting to
grow out of, I could see only imagine what his overall well proportioned
lithe body looked like. Only the snug fit of his pants showed me the
outlines of what I thought to be quite a nice little butt. Of course I made
sure I wasn't looking at that part of him too long, not wanting him to
freak out.
It took us a little over an hour and a half to get everything inside. I was
mostly grateful for Sander's help, because he'd saved me half the
afternoon. Even though he'd started helping me to make up for crashing into
me, I still thought he earned a little reward. After shutting the doors of
the van and closing the gate to my garage, I invited the boy to sit down on
the couch.
"So, how does Ice Tea sound?" I suggested as I went into the kitchen.
"Sound great!" Sander accepted my offer.
Inside the kitchen, I grabbed two glasses, a big bottle of Ice Tea and two
small bags of salted crisps and carried them to the lounge where Sander was
sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his arms resting on his
knees. Not wanting to get too familiar with the boy, I sat down in a seat
across the table and then poured both of us a glass of Ice Tea. I moved one
of the bags of crisps towards Sander and handed him a glass of the soda.
"There you go, buddy," I offered. "You've earned that for helping me out."
"Cool, thanks," the boy smiled as he put the glass to his lips.
I took a few swallows of my Ice Tea, too, and then sat back in my
seat. "Won't your grandmother be wondering where you are," I asked Sander.
Putting down his glass he shook his head and said: "I told her about what
happened and that I would be helping you. She said it was okay as long as I
wasn't bugging you or anything."
"You weren't bugging me at all, Sander," I smiled. "Without your help, I'd
probably wouldn't have finished before dinner. Now I've got some time left
to chill before fixing me something to eat."
"I guess me riding into you wasn't that bad after all, huh," he grinned
mischievously.
"Ha ha, I guess not," I laughed, adding wit to his qualities. "How's your
knee, by the way."
"It's okay," he said as he rolled up the leg of his pants to inspect his
injury. "It doesn't really hurt much, just stings a bit."
I looked down at his knee, seeing it was a bit reddish. "It doesn't look
too bad," I said as I inspected the minor wound. Just make sure to ask your
grandmother to clean it a bit when you get home so it won't get
infected. I'd do it myself, but I haven't got a first aid kit yet."
"I will," he nodded and let the leg of his pants fall back down. He then
finished his drink and put his glass down, announcing: "I'd better go home,
now."
"Okay, Sander," I said, trying not to show my disappointment. I would have
loved the boy to stay a bit longer. "Thanks again for the help."
"Sure," he simply smiled as he got up.
"Let me show you out," I said. I got up as well and handed him one of the
bags of crisps. "Takes these home with you, but don't go spoil your
dinner."
He took the bag and thanked me, telling me he'd save him for the evening. I
let him lead the way as I escorted him out through the front door. As he
stepped out he turned around to say goodbye and then took me completely of
guard by giving me a quick hug. Before I knew what came over me, he'd let
go and was on his way home, waving as he trotted off. I waved back and
stood there flabbergasted, wondering about what just happened. I shook my
head in disbelief and drew back inside, shutting the door and going back to
the lounge. As I sat down on the couch, I sighed deeply, feeling happy and
sad at the same time. Happy because I'd just discovered the most wonderful
little fellow lived nearby and sad because the chance of spending more time
with him and getting to know him better was probably inexistent. Some of
Sander's energy still lingered in my new house and overall, I felt as if
I'd just had the best day in my entire life.
A bit later I went upstairs again to check on the stuff we'd carried into
the spare bedroom. In my mind I tried to figure out where to store
everything, often wishing I'd have Sander beside me to assist me. Not
because the work at hand was so tough, but because I'd really enjoyed his
company. I let that thought slip out of my mind, thinking I was only
fooling myself and decided to take a quick shower.
After my refreshing shower, I started making plans to head out and grab a
pizza for dinner (no home delivery here). Even with Sander's help, I was
not really in the mood to prepare my own meal after those hours of hard
labour. I got dressed in a plain pair of jeans, a shirt and a sweater, put
on socks and shoes and grabbed my wallet. I was about to grab my jacket and
to head out through the back when the doorbell rang. I wasn't really
expecting anyone, mostly because besides my parents, the people from work
sending my paycheck and since this afternoon, Sander, no one knew I lived
there. So, I was guessing Jehovah's Witnesses and decided to ignore whoever
was ringing my bell.
But then I heard the clank of my mailbox, which caught my attention. I
turned around and saw a yellow note lying on the rug by the door. I picked
up the note and immediately forgot about the pizza. "My grandson Sander
told me we have a new neighbor and pretty much begged me to invite him over
for dinner. We eat at 6.30. Give us a call at 555-5470 if you can't make it
and we'll settle a new date. Otherwise, we will be seeing you later this
evening. Greetings. Annie. PS: We're at 135 Cricket Rd."
Now there's an invitation I can't refuse. What kind of a neighbor would I
be to decline such a kind offer. Most of all, this was clearly Sander's
idea and I would never think of disappointing him. I must have made quite
an impression on the boy if he wanted to see me again so soon. What was
maybe worse, he'd definitely left his mark while he was helping me
earlier. From the second he'd left, after that brief hug, his angelic
little face had spooked through my head. I could pretty much still here his
boyish giggles resonating in my ears and once or twice I even caught myself
wondering what he would look like underneath his tracksuit. That last bit
worried me greatly, even if it wasn't the first time I'd thought of young
boys in that matter. This time was different, however, because I actually
got to know the boy and the guilt about my increasing attraction towards
him was starting to cloud my mind.
There was still some time left before I was expected for dinner. I did my
very best to look clean and sharp, so I could make a good impression on
Sander's grandmother. A friendship between Sander and me could only grow
closer and stronger if she approved of me being her grandson's friend. I
think of myself as an easygoing guy, but everyone knows relationships
between adults and young children that aren't related are heavily frowned
upon... exactly because of that looming attraction towards Sander. Still,
my curiosity as to how far this thing could carry was powerful enough to
not let this unique chance slip out of my hands.
I suppose this is as good a time as any to introduce myself a bit. My
name's Robert, I'm 33 years old and as I stated earlier, I just bought this
little house, finally moving out of my parents' house. Not that I really
had to move out, but the bedroom I spent most of time in had just become
way too small and there was no room for expansion. As you know, I have
quite a nice collection of cd's and dvd's that's still growing and I was
out of space to store the newest acquisitions. The job as a secretary at
the climate control systems factory was pretty simple. Most of my work
existed in typing out meeting reports and stuff like that. It was a fairly
interesting job and I did pay attention to whatever they said during those
meetings. The department I worked for was in direct contact with the mother
company back in Kyoto, Japan. The rumors were that they were planning to
set up a new plant in Australia. I didn't know if that would have any
effect on us, since we were only one of their offshore departments.
How do I look? Like thirteen in a dozen, I suppose. Glasses, dark brown
hair that's usually a bit messy because I always let it grow to long before
even thinking about a visit to the hairdresser and slightly overweight. I
don't think of myself as attractive or anything, just plain and fairly
uninteresting. You'd only spot me in a crowd if I'd wear a bright orange
vest, which I won't. Apart from music and films, I don't really have
hobbies, although I just picked up on hiking. I think me not seeing too
many people outside of the office made the interaction with Sander earlier
extra special. Of course, if anyone besides Sander had been lying sprawled
on the pavement after skating into me, I would have called him everything
under the sun and then demanded some financial compensation for the non
existing damage to the cd's that I had dropped and there would have been no
pleasant afternoon. I think I'd still be going back and forth with boxes
right now.
Now, as you've already understood, I like boys. Whenever I go shopping to
expand my collection of if I need new clothes, I pretty much spot every
small boy that crosses my path and with quite a few I turn around to make
sure my eyes didn't fool me. During the rather wet and cold winter, not
much of the kids can be seen, except there usually blushing cheeks in
between woolen scarfs and hats, but even that makes them look
adorable. Most of the times when I return home, I already forgot about
them, unless I was granted and better view of the boy's features. Spring
and especially summer were a lot more interesting, when scarfs and thick
coats make way for t-shirts and shorts and hats no longer hide their little
faces. Then it's the little blond heads that capture most of attention, but
I'll never ignore a boy because his hair is of a different color. The only
thing that turns me off in boys is big bellies and large butts... Even if
it's a medical condition, overweight in children is never attractive.
That's as far as my attraction goes. With the very unforgiving society
towards people like me, I shy away from any form digitalized nudity (unless
it's part of the movies I own... I can't help it if the makers of the films
think showing the boys undressed is vital for the story). A picture or a
video of a naked boy in a dishonorable position isn't worth jail time. My
freedom is sacred, especially if I want to make something out of my
life. My only sin is reading stories about that same naked boy in that same
dishonorable position, although I prefer to use my own imagination in time
of... need. With today's events, things will become a bit more complicated,
because now there's a walking, talking version of that boy in the stories
and dreams. I do pray that I will have a strong enough will to separate
fiction from reality. Even thinking about Sander that way seems
disrespectful, criminal even. It's beyond saying that no matter what
happens from this point onwards, I will be tested to my very limits, and I
hope I can pass the test with flying colors.
Before heading out, I splashed my face a couple of times with cold water to
wipe out all the thoughts currently going through my head. I then grabbed
my jacket and headed out. I remembered Sander coming from the left when
returning with the cardboard boxes, so I headed that way and looked up at
the house numbers to find number 135, which was on the other side of the
road. Only three minutes later, I found my destination. As I stood in front
of the door, I inhaled deeply, not believing how nervous I actually was for
something as trivial as a neighbor's friendly dinner invitation, and then
rang the bell.
When the wooden door swung open, it was Annie who greeted me. I already
knew she was a teacher and my first thought when seeing her was that she
kinda looked the part. She was about foot shorter than I was, with curly
brown (dyed?) hair and glasses that made her look pretty strict. She was
dressed in a purple woolen sweater and a skirt that added to the teacher's
appearance.
"You must be Robert," she greeted me in a voice that was warmer and more
welcoming that I'd expected.
"That's me," I confirmed.
"Well, then, come on in," the lady said.
"Thank you, Misses, errr... I didn't quite get your name," I accepted the
invitation.
"Just call me Annie, Robert," she smiled as she pointed me to the living
room. "I believe neighbors should go on first name bases, don't you agree."
"Absolutely," I smiled politely. I started to see where Sander had gotten
his good manners from.
Annie then escorted me their lounge room where she invited me to take off
my jacket and to sit down. I looked around, finding myself in a cosy living
room and pretty quickly I spotted some of Sander's comic books on the table
in front of me. One of them was lying upside down, opened at the page where
Sander had interrupted his reading. Annie took my jacket from me to hang it
up in the hallway and offered me a glass of wine, which I gladly accepted.
"Sander's upstairs taking a bath," she told me as she served the
drinks. Oddly I hadn't mentioned the boy and although she was not mistaken,
it was a bit awkward that she would assume I was there because of her
grandson. I was starting to wonder what Sander had told about me and how
he'd persuaded his grandmother to make dinner for one more.
"Probably a bit sweaty from all the hard labor this afternoon, was he," I
said.
"That, and I've been a teacher long enough to know there's very few boys
who don't get dirty, every now and then," the kind woman smiled. "I hope he
didn't bother you today."
"No, not at all," I reassured her. "I really appreciated his help."
"He felt really bad about the accident, when he came in here this
afternoon," Annie told me. "He was dead set on making up for it."
"The boxes he let me borrow would have been enough to do that," I
nodded. "Instead he saved me half an afternoon of work by helping me unload
the van. I still think I'm the one who's in debt with him."
"Well, you're here accepting his offer to have dinner with us, so that
should settle things between you two," Annie happily accepted my appraisal
for her grandson.
At that very moment, Sander walked into the room. He'd combed his still
damp hair backward, granting my eyes full access to his handsome face. The
warm light from the big chandelier above the dining table and the remaining
wetness gave his hair a golden touch, which looked almost divine. With the
pupils in his a bit larger, rendering the blue in his eyes a shade darker,
almost like sapphires. When he saw me, they twinkled with joy as a broad
smile appeared on his lips.
"I knew you would come!" he declared happily.
"You did, huh?" I smiled, just as happy to see him again. "I would have
been a fool if I let the chance of a free dinner slip."
"Oh, you're just here for the food," he said, disappointment seeping into
him.
"That, and the company of a certain young man I met this afternoon," I
winked.
Flash!! There was that smile again. Cheerfully, he hopped over to where I
was sitting and flopped down right next to me, with not an inch between
us. "We're having mac and cheese," he let me know.
"One of my favorites," I said. For theatrical effect, I sniffed up the air
and then turned back to the boy. "Smells delicious!"
"Flattering the cook and you haven't even tasted it," Annie laughed as she
stood up, appreciating the compliment. "Dinner should be ready in just a
minute. Why don't you go take a seat."
"Cool!" Sander said anxiously, heading for the dinner table. He pulled one
chair back and then sat down on another. "Come sit next to me," he smiled
invitingly, beckoning me to the chair he'd pulled back.
"Sure thing, buddy," I accepted as I sat down next to him. Well, not quite
next to him, because I sat at another side of the corner, but close to
him. Close enough for his knees to touch my legs.
It was only then, while Annie was finishing up on our dinner, that I dared
look at the boy a bit more closely. It was only then, while Annie was
finishing up on our dinner, that I dared look at the boy a bit more
closely. His hair was becoming drier and was losing it's fight with gravity
as it fell back down around his face, transforming him back into the boy
I'd met earlier. The reflex of brushing a strand back behind his little
ears returned quickly.
Straight out of the bathtub, Sander'd wrapped himself in a comfy looking
burgundy fleece bathrobe, with the ribbon tied in a big knot across his
belly. On his feet he was wearing a pair of fluffy slippers that simply
looked adorable. When he'd entered the room, I'd noticed his bare knees and
calves sticking out from below the bathrobe, which made me wonder what
exactly he was wearing underneath it. For a minute my imagination ran wild,
thinking the bathrobe and the slippers were the only attire Sander was
wearing. That was stilly, of course, but not impossible. I hoped for the
boy that he wasn't naked underneath, because I know from experience that no
matter how tightly you tie the ribbon, a bathrobe never stays in place for
too long, which would result in Sander revealing more than he wants
to. That might become quite embarrassing for the little munchkin and I
don't think Annie would approve either.
While we waited for Annie to join us for dinner, Sander and I started
chatting a bit. The topic of him playing football came up and I let him
tell all about that. It was obvious that he loved the game and he was
friends with most of the kids he played with. At his age, there are no
standings, so there's no champion at the end of the season, but they do
have weekly matches to play, both home and away. It was only when I asked
about those matches that he seemed a bit sad. I was about to ask if
something was bugging him when Annie put a steaming hot pot of mac and
cheese on the table. The delicious smell and hunger shoved the conversation
to the background, leaving it for a future moment. Still, it bothered me a
bit that Sander had turned so quiet when playing matches came up.
Annie scooped our plates full with the yummy looking macaroni, threads of
cheese hanging from the wooden spoon, making both Sander's and my mouth
water. The kind woman made sure neither of us would get hungry, making sure
to fill our plates to the rim. Before she could serve herself and sit down,
Sander was already wolfing down his pile of the Italian delicacy. I waited
until Annie could start herself and then followed the hungry boy's example,
trying to look less like a little piggy.
Our stomachs slowly filled and small talk rolled over the table in between
bites. Mostly, it was Sander doing the talking and I listened closely to
his every words, no matter how trivial the topic was. I would ask a
question now and then, showing him I was genuinely interested in whatever
he had to say. Annie remained silent during most of our meal, adding a few
remarks of her own every now and then. I almost felt guilty to exclude her
from our chats, but she seemed happy to just sit in on our
conversations. That happiness only appeared bigger when she saw how much
Sander enjoyed this dinner party, something that didn't go unnoticed with
me either. I was most amazed at how quickly and how easily I was growing
found of the little chatterbox and I strongly believed he felt it.
We sat at the table for about half an hour and let the food digest a
little. For a young, energetic kid, Sander managed to sit still (besides
the usual shuffling and fidgeting) for quite a long time. Annie then got up
and started collecting the empty plates and the used cutlery.
"Do want any help with that?" I asked, wanting to show my gratitude for the
wonderful dinner.
"No, no," she quickly refused. "I will not have a guest of mine do any
work."
"Hey, do you want to play a game?" Sander then suggested, knowing we would
have the table to ourselves.
"Sure," I nodded. "What've you got?"
"Errr... How about 'Snakes and Ladders'?" Sander proposed.
"Okay, buddy," I agreed.
Quick as lightening, Sander got up and only a split second later I heard
his little feet pounding up the stairs. Having heard her grandson
challenging me to a game, she came and cleared the table for us. The boy
returned only two minutes later with the game. He deftly set it up between
us, letting me chose my pawn. He then climbed back onto his chair, deciding
to sit on his knees so he could reach the board easier.
'Snakes and Ladders' turned out to be a good idea. Playing the game, which
I hadn't played since my own childhood, with Sander made it the best fun
I'd had in a long time. The boy really put his mind to it, displaying every
emotion between the excitement of victory and the disappointment of defeat
on his precious little face. The constant smile on his lips, forming
dimples in his cheeks, told me he enjoyed it just as much as I did. Annie
had put a bowl of peanuts on the table for us which mostly disappeared
between the boy's teeth.
During the game we continued talking about whatever came to our mind. He
told a few jokes he knew from school, which were usually not all that
funny, but his laughter was catching enough for me to laugh along with
him. Football came up again, this time about why his favorite team was the
best (and mine was not), the tv shows he liked were discussed and he
inquired about the movies I had. The entire night my eyes seemed to be
glued to his handsome face. The look of an angel was even enhanced when
Annie switched of the light from the chandelier and turned on a couple of
smaller lampshades, allowing us enough light to play the game and making
the boy almost glow in the dark.
Every now and then I would steal a glance downward, and true to it's
nature, Sander's fleece bathrobe had opened up a little, due to the boy's
constant moving around to throw the die and move his pawn. It was only a
couple of inches, and even though the dim light coming from the lamps
shaded most of what was underneath, I could clearly make out the smoothness
of what could only be Sander's naked skin. Obviously, this meant my young
host wasn't wearing his pajamas underneath the robe, which I had pretty
much guessed when I'd seen his bare knees.
Luckily for both Sander and me, I could only see the boy from his chest up,
the table concealing the rest of him, so I could guess that the lack of
pajamas also meant no underwear. The discovery of his bare skin appearing
between the flaps of his robe was intriguing but dangerous. My imagination
started running wild a bit and I didn't want that. I wanted to continue
enjoying Sander's company without making things complicated. So, I made
myself focus back on the game and keep the stolen peeks between the
slightly opened sides of his bathrobe to a strict minimum. That was easier
said than done with a boy as handsome as Sander, but I definitely didn't
want to jeopardize our nascent friendship by showing too much interest in
his body. It was the sound of his voice that kept my attention to the game
and to the boy's presence.
The evening went by way too quickly. Sander had just beaten me in the game
for the third time in a row when Annie called his name.
"It's past your bedtime, sweetie," Sander's grandmother said softly as she
approached the table.
"Awww, already?" the boy complained.
Of course I was sad to know I'd be saying goodnight to the little darling
soon, but I had to try and get on Annie's good side if I wanted to add a
few points in my favor.
"It's nice of you to want to give me another chance to win a game, Sander,"
I said as I smiled at him. "But those snakes have developed a hunger for my
little pawn, so I'm gonna have to forfeit."
"Awww, do you have to?" Sander tried to put off his bedtime.
"Don't worry, buddy, I'll get my revenge some other time," I said.
"Do you mean you want to come back?" Sander asked, checking if he'd
understood my hint.
"Only if you want me to," I promised.
"Uhuh, yeah, I do," he nodded happily. "Can he come back, grannie? Huh? Can
he?" the boy then begged his grandmother.
"We'll see," she just said, but I knew she meant yes by her loving
smile. "But only if you're a good boy and go to bed right now."
"I will," the youngster obeyed as he hopped of his chair. Then he came
standing right next to me, leaned forward a bit and planted a big wet kiss
on my cheek. "Goodnight, Robert," he said in his sweetest voice. "It was
fun!"
"I had a great time, too, Sander," I told him as I reached out and caressed
his arm. "Sweet dreams, ey, buddy."
"Yep," he smiled and then turned to his grandmother.
Annie then kneeled down in front of her grandson. She must have noticed his
robe coming loose and quickly pulled the flaps back in place before kissing
him on his forehead and wishing him goodnight. Sander had looked down while
his grannie tidied up his bathrobe and giggled silently when he understood
what had happened. It was only then that I realized I hadn't even paid any
attention to that anymore. The loving way the boy had wished me goodnight
and his explicit request for me to come back another time had meant so much
to me that it completely overpowered my curiosity about what he was wearing
underneath his bathrobe. In a way, that set my mind at rest a bit, knowing
that what I felt for the little boy was a lot more than plain attraction,
as I'd had for quite a score of kids I'd spotted in the street. If that was
possible, maybe a friendship could exist between us without letting my
attraction towards him complicating things too much.
Grandmother and grandson said their goodnights and Annie sent her apple of
the eye off to bed with a playful pat on his little butt. Giggling
cheerfully, the boy exited the room to go to bed. Annie then invited me to
sit down on the couch and offered me nightcap in the form of another glass
of the wine. I gladly accepted. She then went upstairs to tuck Sander in
and returned five minutes later, joining me in the lounge where the two of
us got a chance to get acquainted.
We then talked about each others jobs. Mine seemed boring compared to her
long life as a teacher. The anecdotes she told about some kids in her class
were really funny and proved over and over how amazing young children can
be. And even though she complained about the growing workload and stress a
bit, she loved teaching and wouldn't think of doing anything else. I kinda
envied her, even though I was fairly happy with my own job. Of course it
didn't take too long before we started talking about Sander. It was Annie
who brought him up.
"So, Robert," she said, turning rather serious. "What are your intentions
with my grandson?"
I had to swallow hard when I heard her question. 'Intentions' made it sound
as if I was up to no good, which was never the case.
"I'm not sure yet," I tried carefully. "I took quite a liking to him,
today, I'll admit that."
"That's obvious," Annie smiled. "And clearly, he did too. I never heard him
talk as much as he did tonight."
"Really? So he's not the chatterbox I took him for?"
"Not at all," Annie said. "He's usually pretty quiet. It's all because you
took the time to listen and paid attention to him."
"It's the least I could do," I shrugged. "Playing that game with him and
talking with him was relaxing to me. I really had fun with him,
tonight. But that doesn't mean I have any real plans with him, or
anything."
"I see," the woman nodded. "When I asked about your intentions, I probably
gave the impression that I thought you had a second agenda with Sander."
"A bit," I admitted. "I can imagine it might seem weird for a grownup to
take an interest in a young boy like Sander. I read the newspapers too."
"I can't help but worry," Annie said. "Sander's all I have and I don't want
to see him hurt."
"I understand," I nodded.
"But I was talking to Sander when I was upstairs with him," Annie then
said. "I think it's a bit early, but something he said made it clear that
he wants to be friends with you."
"What was that?" I asked.
"Well, it's a tad bit delicate to tell you," Annie answered. "But it was
enough for me to give you the benefit of the doubt."
"Meaning?" I was now truly curious about where this was going.
"Meaning that I don't see a reason why you shouldn't be friends," Annie
sighed. "Refusing Sander a good friend would hurt him just the same and
well, a bit of male influence might be a good thing, too."
"I see," I nodded, trying hard not to seem to thrilled about the
outcome. "And do you propose now?"
"You already know he plays football," Annie said. "I think he'd like it if
you'd go and watch his next game."
"I've been thinking the same thing, actually," I admitted truefully. "But
when Sander and I talked about football, he seemed to clam up a bit. Would
you have any idea why? He definitely enjoys playing football, so I wondered
if anything was wrong."
"You really did listen to him, didn't you?" she sighed, her worries about
the subject clearly visible. "I don't know, really, but whenever I pick him
up after a match, he always seems a bit down. That's been going on all
year."
"And he never told you anything?" I asked.
"No, never," she replied, shaking her head. "He tells me the final score,
but that's all he ever tells me. I tried asking him about it, but he just
shrugs and changes the subject. I can never make it to his matches because
I tutor a few of my students, during the weekend, so I really don't know
what's going on."
"Do you think he'll want me to go watch him play?" I wanted to know. "If he
doesn't let you know if something's wrong, I don't think he'll want me to
know either. We've only just met."
"Maybe not," Annie agreed. "But I'd still like to know what's bugging
him. It's no good sending him to football practices and games if he doesn't
like going."
"That's what's so awkward about it," I said. "I bet he would have asked to
quit if he didn't like playing football anymore. When's his next game?"
"Next Saturday. It's an away game, I think," Annie informed me. "Why?"
"I was thinking, maybe I can make a surprise visit," I suggested. "Instead
of driving him, just show up during the match. Maybe I'll find out from the
sideline what his problem is, and talk to some of the other kids' parents
or so."
"That might not be a bad idea," Annie pondered. "Would you really do that?"
"Look, I really do care about your grandson," I confessed. "If he wants me
to be his friend, I better start acting like one. He might not be too
thrilled if he sees me show up, but I want to be there for him whenever I
can."
"Somehow I think you'd do it even if I asked you not to," Annie smiled
gratefully. "Alright, I'll check his calendar tomorrow and then let you
know the details. I've got the feeling Sander might even want you to be
there."
"Okay, then," I nodded as I quickly glanced at the clock. "And now it's
time for this boy to go home and hit the hay."
"Oh, right, look at the time," Annie smiled warmly. "Thank you for
coming. You've made Sander a happy little boy and I've got the feeling
we'll be seeing more of you, pretty soon."
"I can only hope so," I said. "It was a lovely evening and I thank you for
your hospitality and your wonderful meal."
"Not a problem," the lady nodded as you escorted me to the door. "After
all, it was all Sander's idea. He can be very convincing."
"I believe so," I chuckled. "Goodnight to you, Annie."
Annie then gave me a warm hug, explaining where Sander'd picked that habit
up, and sent me off home. "See you some other time, Robert."
"Bye," I said as I waved at her. As I crossed the street, I looked up at
one of the bedrooms and it might have been my imagination, but I think I
saw one of the curtains move. Apparently Sander hadn't been asleep yet. I
hope he hadn't been eavesdropping, because I didn't want him to know about
the little plan for next week's football game.
A bit later I found myself lying in bed, playing the video of the day in my
mind, from the moment Sander had crashed into me, to the wonderful dinner
at his grandmother's house. Of course the slightly open bathrobe came into
the picture as well and in my imagination it showed just a bit more than it
had in reality. Happy to have found such a wonderful boy who'd declared to
his grandmother that I was to be his friend, I quickly fell asleep. Dreams
about Sander in his football outfit scoring the winning goal and
celebrating his victory with me came fast and I never had a more pleasant
night in my entire life.
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