DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of homosexual contact between underage males. Read at your own risk, and do not read at all if it is illegal in your city, state, or province. All characters depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons can be attributed to chance.
"Dear God Jesus Ian oh fuck that felt good." "Hmmm... I love it when you talk dirty." I rolled over, pinning the half naked stud that had just ravaged me like a dog in heat on the floor in the bathroom, at an airport to boot. To say we weren't thinking straight is an understatement (not to mention a play on words...). I disappointedly dismounted, for I knew all things must come to an end (and come they did) even if temporarily. Chance lay on his back staring up, not believing his good fortune. I knew the feeling. Having a boy that good in the sack was like pennies from heaven. "Nice pants," I said, grinning wickedly. "I'll take 'em." I slipped into his cargo pants, instantly getting horny just knowing that I had got into Chance's pants twice in one day. They were still warm. Sexy. He rose and redressed himself in my shorts, which I found absolutely maddening. He did not, however, put his boxers back on. Instead, he slipped them into the front of his pants (while I had them on) whispering huskily, "I'll be needing those back." "Anytime." I said, rooting through my carry-on and finding 2 slightly used but not soiled t-shirts. They would do, since they were not covered in semen, which kind of was my doing (didn't feel too guilty, though). We changed, and walked out, with no one the wiser of our little sexcapades. "That was crazy..." "Whew, who are you telling." "You know, I didn't think-" "When I got on the plane-" "That I would meet-" "Someone like you..." We said this at the same time. I looked up into his eyes, and saw a different person through them. This Chance had seen pain, hurt and love. He had been pushed to the near breaking point and had some nights he couldn't sleep. He got scared sometimes. He was brave sometimes. But yet, he was still willing to love. How did I know? I saw the same thing the day before, in the mirror. I wanted him to know that I would be there for him. I took his hand, stepped up and kissed him, and headed for the parking garage. "So Chance... Where are you headed from here? Are you expecting someone to pick you up?" "No... Actually I've got the cash to call a cab." "Scratch that. You're riding in style." He raised an eyebrow at this one. "Well at least I think it's stylish." The Mustang chirp-chirped as I unlocked it. It's bright green. And convertible. An I'm in love with it. Within the next twenty-four hours, I would inevitably end up lovingly washing, rinsing, and waxing my baby. Two weeks is a long time. I had some making up to do. Anyway, Chance got in looking impressed. I smiled inwardly. If he liked the car, he was the perfect boy. By now, I wasn't surprised. I let the convertible down and Chance lay back in his seat facing the sky. "How about some coffee?" "..." Silence. "Or do you have to be somewhere?" He looked thoughtful for a second, and flashed me a smile. "Sounds cool." I navigated the twisty turns of the airport under the rapidly setting sun. Not before long, we ended up on the highway. I got off slightly in the middle of nowhere. Dave's Coffee shop is located there for no known reason. But after hanging around there, I think he put it there because he just wanted to. Anyway, his supply created its own demand. People always ended up there, talking about everything or nothing. Either way, it was always comfortable. It was a place to study or relax or play... or take your new date. I noticed that said new date had fallen asleep. He looked peaceful. To bad, I thought. It's good coffee. I pulled up anyway, and Mr. Cimanta saw me through the window and waved warmly. He was always happy to have customers at night. Although he was the owner, he worked the night shift, while his partner Jack worked days. I left Chance in the car, and walked up. By the time I was inside, his nimble hands had mixed espresso, foamed milk, vanilla, and caramel into two cups of heavenliness. I humored him anyway. "Two Car-" "Caramel Macchiato? Extra vanilla? Coming right up, Ian." With a flourish, he produced the steaming cups from behind his back."So," he began, checking temperatures on the syrups and stuff he always had simmering. "Who's the strapping young lad?" Hearing 50 something year old Mr. Cimanta refer to a young lad as "strapping" was humorous. "Well... he's a friend. A boy I met at the airport. I'm giving him a ride home..." I paused looking affectionately at the reclined figure. Mr. Cimanta gave me a knowing smile. "He's my boyfriend." "I see. And his name is?" "Chance. He's from Illinois. I met him at the airport." "I could tell, you know. You had lovesick written all over you. I know what its like to be young..." He stared off into space, then at the boy in my car. "I'm happy you found someone. He looks... tired. It seems that he's been through a lot. If I were to meet him, I'd see that same tired look in his eyes that I see in yours. He needs someone to take care of him. And I think you need him to take care of you. I'm glad you found him." Mr. Cimanta had that way with people; from the first glance, he could offer you the drink you were craving and didn't know, or he could offer to save your life. He knew people. I guess on some level I brought Chance here for his approval. I trusted him. "Thanks, Mr. Cimanta. I'm glad you like him... Do I really look that stricken?" "Well, no, but I figured you wouldn't bring someone to get coffee this good unless you loved him. And... you have an extra pair of boxers. (He said this with a wink.) That would make him a new customer, so he gets the new customer discount." I looked quizzical. "Yep. Buy none, get two free. It's on the house, kiddo. Make love, not war." Heh. I always left there happier than when I came. "Thank you, Mr. Cimanta." I went back to the car, whistling softly. Chance was still asleep, but his face was glistening, as if he'd been... crying? As I got back on the road, I furrowed my brow in worry. "Chance?" I said, very softly. The reply was a whisper. "Yes?" "What's wrong?" He was quiet for a while. "I... I'm not sure I'm ready yet." "To go back to your family?" "Yeah..." He stared down. I remembered what Dave had said, so I took care of him. I got off at the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of one of the nearest hotels. I let my seat back to match Chance's,and I put my arm around him. Then I set about reaching Mom.I didn't feel like lying that much, so instead of calling I sent her a message. "Hey Mom. I missed the flight. Rescheduled for morning. Would call but my batteries are dead. I'm staying in a hotel. Love, Ian." After the lengthy message was sent, I coaxed Chance out of the seat and went to check in the hotel. I paid with cash, and it was late, so I got little trouble from the desk. Our room was typical hotel fare. Cool, soft beds, smelled a little off, clean. I wasted no time in jumping in the shower. I take long showers, so it was a while before I came out. Towel on waist, hair still dripping, I came into the room. Chance was in boxers and a t shirt, and he was crying. Not all out bawling, but a quiet, defeated whimper. He looked so goddamned hurt it hurt me. I came to him, and lay behind him. I put my arms around him. Sobs shook his body, and I knew he was holding back. I held him tighter, saying, "It's OK Chance. I'm here for you. I turned him around and kissed him, wetting our faces with his tears and my hair. Love was what he needed. He responded by putting his arms around me and pressing his crotch into mine. We kissed harder, rolling about on the bed, gasping between kisses. I shed the towel and Chance shed his clothes, and our nakedness pressed against each other, embodying our need. His hands were in my hair, down my back, all over me. I wanted him all over me. He wanted me too. Chance gasped a little as I entered him. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to save him. I began the rhythm slow, even though I longed to go as fast as I could. He arched his back into me, and I knew I made him feel the way he had made me feel at the airport. As the creamy body beneath me writhed in pleasure, I knew that I, his lover, was driving away all his problems. I went faster, and Chance breathed faster and matched my speed. I was so deep inside him that his heart beat with mine, his breaths matched mine, and we had really became one. I could feel the tension mounting in our muscles, and I could sense the climax we both were headed for. It crept up on us, and doused us in an ocean of explosive pleasure. He tightened around me and convulsed, and I was consumed by the sheer intensity of it. I kept coming, and it quickly oozed out. We collapsed into each other, and simply stared at the ceiling, covered in sweat, tears, water, and semen. Our ragged breaths echoed similar sentiments of satisfaction. Chance had made me feel good in a way I hadn't felt in a hell of a long time. In the dark, I could sense his tousled head turning to look at me. His next words were halting, like he was on the verge of tears. "Ian... I'm not a perfect person. Sometimes I do things for no reason. Sometimes I'll hate myself... sometimes I'll act like I hate you. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy... but... I love you... and I'll try as hard as I fucking can to make sure you know that." "Chance," I said. "I'm not perfect either... but I love you, and I hope that's enough."
---That's it for this chapter folks. And what a chapter it was. I hope you like. I guess updating every few days might prove to be hard, with my end of school year schedule, but I'll do my best. I'll make a deal. Send me an email, and I'll send those interested the chapters as I send them to Nifty, so you'll get them posthaste. Inlwtx@yahoo.com Comments, criticism, or shameless debauchery go to this address also. Show the love, folks.