Thanks for all the great feedback. Always appreciated. First-time author here, haven't really written anything of any genre in many, many years. Still not sure what direction the story will take with these characters (fictional, by the way). But I'm enjoying learning their stories as they come to me. Hope you do, too.
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Beautiful Burglar Boy - Ch. 4 By Jeff Ennig
The soothingly irritating sound of my phone's wakeup app woke me from my blissful Ollie-wrapped slumber, the time only a touch later than O'Dark-Thirty. I reached behind me to grab the phone and shut off the alert, trying to not move otherwise. As my brain slowly turned on, I soon realized that wasn't the only thing turned on. We must have shifted some during the night, because now Ollie was fully pressed up against me in a spooning cradle, and my morning wood strained through the fabric of my boxer briefs and Ollie's thin boxer shorts to nestle below those two firm, warm buns. We seemed like a perfect fit. Although, had he been awake, I wasn't sure Ollie would agree. I gently placed my arm back over his chest, resting my hand again on the pillow beside his perfect face, and remained in this blissful position as long as I possibly could, honing in on every pulse of the blood in my stiff penis as it throbbed against the warmth below Ollie's cheeks. I wished an unrealistic wish in that moment that we could repeat this position sometime, sans underwear, but remained grateful for what I could get.
Finally, the obnoxious call of adulthood won out and I slowly pulled away from the sleeping Adonis and crawled out of bed to hurry myself off to work. Adulthood sure does suck sometimes. I walked up to the back door of the shop with ten minutes to spare before open.
"Jeff, you're a grown-ass man, and you're late again," grumbled Phoebe as she waited outside, mildly annoyed.
"Yeah, I know. Sorry, Pheebs. But hey, if any customers get upset, at least you can blame it on the owner, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. You know I love you, Jeff. And so do the customers. Ugh, you charm your way out of everything."
"Right back at ya, bitch!" I retorted with a chuckle.
We went about quickly getting the place ready, and soon the slow trickle of very early morning customers began. In between, Phoebe conducted her typical interrogation.
"So... Ollie. You weren't kidding. He's just plain stunning! I could just eat him up. I hope the monks don't corrupt him and turn him celibate or something."
"Haha, no. The monks were good to the kid. But they actually had to kick him out in favor of a family that needed room, so he didn't stay there last night."
"Uh huh. And I bet I know who swooped in to the rescue, don't I?"
"Get out of my head, devil woman! I really hate how well you know me."
"Yup, guilty. Read you like a book, I do. But I think I like him, for more than his cute little tooshie. I can definitely say he doesn't give me a junkie vibe. And he's too much of a hard worker to be a narcissistic sociopath like the rest of his iPhone-reared generation. Are we sure he's only 17?"
"I know what you mean. But I've seen other things about him that let me know how young he is. I'll respect his privacy and not say more, but he did make himself pretty vulnerable to me yesterday. It almost breaks my heart what a sweet kid he seems to be underneath it all."
"You know he's not a puppy, right? You can't keep him."
"Oh, shut up. I know that. I'm just enjoying the moment."
"Ok, Jeff. I'm just looking out for you."
Just then, a horde of customers came pouring in and our chit-chat came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, more of my crew began arriving then too, and the place hummed along like a finely-tuned machine. I was enjoying my daily morning stint as the chatty barista, hearing bits and pieces of the hopes and worries of the townsfolk as I busied myself serving up helpings of caffeine. Then I saw Eric, the English professor with the wandering eye, come down to the end of the bar to wait for his cortado. "Is this an early morning cameo appearance by one of my favorite lunchtime regulars?"
"Well, you do make a mean cortado, Jeff."
"Heh heh, thanks, man. Don't suppose there's anything else, or anyONE else, that prompted you to change up your routine this morning, is there?"
"I don't know whatever you could mean by that, Jeff!" his voice dripping with sassy sarcasm.
I flashed him a wry smile. "Well, here's your cortado, my friend. Hope to see you at lunchtime today. I think you'll really like today's special," I said with a wink.
"Oh, I'll be here!" he declared, beaming back to me as he grabbed his drink and rushed off to prep for his 8 o'clock summer-term lecture. He told me once that he always volunteered to be one of the faculty members who stuck around to teach in the summers, because that meant just that many more warm-weather months' worth of scantilly-clad young college boys to enjoy ogling. I chuckled to myself at what a little pervert Eric could be sometimes. Maybe that made me the pot calling out the kettle, because I would likely do the exact same in his shoes. He really was a good guy, though. And quite funny. We had even become friends outside of the context of the cafe. But his mousy, nerdy, 5'4", 40-something professor exterior, not to mention his entertainingly flamboyant mannerisms, did nothing for me down below.
The morning rush breezed along, until a few minutes before 8, in strode Ollie, this time not staring at his feet. Between no longer being a stranger to the crew, and being able to wear a fresh set of clothes, he looked a little bit more confident. That small amount of added confidence only made him that much sexier. His new thrift-shop threads really did him justice, too. I was glad he opted today for the tight-fitting bright orange pair of cropped shorts and skin-tight, cute little baby-blue polo shirt. It'd be such a waste to have anything of his hidden away by something baggy.
"Good morning, Ollie!" Phoebe waved as she busily patrolled the tables.
"Good morning, kiddo," I said as he approached the end of the bar. "Go ahead and punch in early, then you're on clean up duty again until the lull hits."
"Mornin'. Mind if I get some coffee first? Still kinda tired."
"Yeah, I bet you are. That's no problem. Help yourself, maybe grab a muffin or something too, then go sit and enjoy your coffee for a few minutes before you hop to it."
"Ok, thanks."
The rest of the morning rush breezed quickly by, and soon the 9 o'clock lull hit. i let Kai take over for me on the floor, while I hopped in the back to take my seat at the small desk with my clandestine view of my new dishwasher boy. Settling in to my spot there, I took in the view, and found that, as much as I enjoyed the way these new tight-fitting shorts lifted and hugged his compact buns, I pined for those magical basketball shorts. Oh well, still a pretty fantastic view to have while I slogged away on the computer.
Pulling up my e-mail, I had a message from the HR company I contract with to handle employee paperwork. It seemed that Ollie's social security number had returned a minor error, because the name didn't completely match the records Big Brother had on him. According to them, Oliver Francis Schmitt was actually Oliver Francis Schmitt-Rhys. The name Rhys rang a bell for me, and not just because of famous actors or my distant Welsh relatives. Before asking Ollie about it, I decided I should look into it a little bit myself first. Normally I try to avoid cyber-snooping, but I also could hear Phoebe's voice in my head nagging me about not being too naive and trusting.
I typed 'Oliver Rhys' into a search, and got quite a few results. Scrolling past the links about some British painter I'd never heard of, I found an article from the prior year in the paper in Corinthia, a small city of about 100,000, a one-and-a-half-hour drive west of Spartanville. It was about David Rhys, a guy who had been arrested for embezzling millions from the local youth sports league and other community groups there. Scrolling through the article, sure enough, I found mention of the man's wife and two sons, Lydia, Ethan, and Oliver. Suddenly remembering having read this story before, I promptly stopped reading or looking any further into it, already feeling as though I had violated Ollie's privacy.
I went to the basement office to take care of a few more things. Working away in quiet solitude, I fretted about how I would bring up the name issue to Ollie. I even debated with myself about whether I could just forge the revised paperwork and then play dumb. Eventually I resolved to myself that I would be open with him about what I found, and about where I stopped looking, just hoping it wouldn't scare him off.
I slowly walked back upstairs, feeling the weight of each step as though my feet were tied to cinder blocks. I nervously approached Ollie, tapped him on the shoulder, and let him know that I needed to see him downstairs in my office for a few minutes.
"Sure thing." After drying off his hands on his apron, he took the apron off and began to follow behind me as I returned downstairs.
Entering the office, I motioned for him to sit at the chair on the far side of my desk, with my own chair standing between him and the door. "I just have to go over something with you real quick, and I hope it doesn't need to be a big deal. You're not in trouble, and what we talk about in here will stay between us, ok?"
"Um, ok. Is it serious?"
"Well, I'll let you be the judge of that. I got an email about your hiring paperwork, because the social security office complained that your name doesn't totally match, since you left off your other last name on your application."
"Oh." His eyes went wide with fright, and he started nervously shifting in his chair.
"Please don't be scared, Ollie. Please. I have to be honest and tell you that I did look up your name, and came upon a news article. Once I realized that I already knew the story, I stopped reading, and I didn't dig any deeper. I need you to know that I want more than anything to respect your privacy, okay?"
"I'd really like to leave now," he stated matter-of-factly, as he got up and began walking resolutely toward the door.
I quickly rose to block his path. "Please, Ollie, just hear me out for a couple more minutes. Then I promise, if you still want to leave, I won't stop you."
"Fine." He stood with his arms folded, looking up, but averting direct eye contact. Even angry, he looked amazing.
"First, please understand that I have a responsibility to my employees by protecting my business, so I felt compelled to look up the name. I trust you, but as a wise man once said, trust but verify. I am sorry that I didn't just talk to you first. But second, you may or may not know this, but with any job, not to mention a lot of other things in life, you have to use your legal name. So I was thinking, I can help you, discreetly, to get your name legally changed so you don't have to deal with this again. And the only people in this town who would know about this would be you, me, a county judge, and her clerk. They'd be legally obligated to keep it to themselves, and you'd have my word I would do the same. Would that be okay with you? Would you let me help you with that?"
He looked into my eyes with skepticism, still keeping his arms folded. "That's... possible?"
"Well sure it is! Lots of people change their name. Usually when marriage is involved, but sometimes people do it for other reasons. In this state, it requires going before a judge if it's for a reason other than marriage, but you can petition for it to be sealed and confidential. And as luck would have it, one of the county judges is a lunchtime regular, and we're on friendly terms. I'm sure she'd work it into her calendar for me, and that she'd be agreeable to the confidential part."
Sparks of hope seemed to dance across his face as I explained all of it, though he remained standing with arms folded defensively across his chest. "Yeah, I'd, I'd like to do that. The sooner the better. I don't like that you read up on me, but I guess if anyone was going to find out, I'd rather it be you. I don't really want to talk any more about all of that."
I assumed by "all of that," he meant his whole family backstory.
"I get it. Totally respect it. I just hope you can forgive me is all."
"Yes, I forgive you." He dropped his arms to his sides and audibly exhaled, as if suddenly shedding a defensive layer of skin. "I'd like to get back to work now, if that's ok."
"Absolutely. And thank you. Oh, and at lunchtime, would you be ok with me introducing you to the judge, and we can let her know we'd like to get on her calendar?"
"Yeah, good," he said, still sounding lightly miffed as he walked out the door and back upstairs.
Closing the door behind him, I breathed a sigh of relief that that conversation was out of the way. It could have been much worse. I was even so preoccupied that I managed not to stare at his ass as he walked away just then. At that point, I was looking to avoid human contact for a couple hours, so I started out on the tedious monthly task of inventory counting. One of the more loathsome parts to running such a place, for me, anyway. Somehow, I had found myself an assistant manager who relished doing such things while reluctantly dragging herself through the whole being-with-customers thing. But today, I stole a bit of poor Kai's thunder, forcing her to spend that much more time with people. I'd make it up to her later.
I played a little retro music from the 90s to move along to, sighing to myself that Weezer had somehow now become 'retro', and slogged my way through the counting. Soon enough, the clock approached lunch rush time, and I figured I couldn't stay hidden forever. I set aside my projects, left the office, and trudged upstairs, hoping the day would look brighter soon.
The hustle and bustle was already in full swing when I returned to the front, but Kai was adeptly steering the ship. I asked her to remain captain through the rush while I hopped around filling in gaps. This allowed me to make my rounds to customers. I saw Judge Fernandes sitting at her usual table, reading a novel as she savored her bowl of gazpacho. A bright and absolutely stunning woman in her mid 30s, with two lawyers for parents, a Black mother from New Orleans and a Portuguese-Indian father from Goa, she radiated both beauty and intelligence. Sometimes, I found myself tongue-tied around her, since she was very much my 'type' when it came to women. We were well-acquainted by then, mostly from the cafe and from running into each other at church. And I always sensed she had similarly-mixed 'attractions' to my own, so I had every reason to feel comfortable approaching her about something personal.
"Good afternoon, Maria! How's the gazpacho today?"
"Oh, hello Jeff," looking up and smiling as she saw me. "It is delicious as always. You have a great team here."
"Thanks. I think so too!" Hoping to stay out of earshot of neighboring tables, I bent down slightly and lowered my voice as I continued, "Speaking of my team, I have a new member of it as of yesterday. I hate to take advantage of your time, but there is a rather sensitive matter with him that needs a judge's eye."
"No need to say any more. I'd be happy to help. I've known you for four years and you've never asked me for anything like this before, so I trust you that it is important."
Breathing an audible sigh of relief, I thanked her for being so understanding. "Any chance we could get on your calendar soon?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact... tomorrow's Wednesday, right? Yes. Let me just text my clerk to have him verify, but I believe I have a few minutes available at 2 o'clock. Bring this new person with you and we can meet in my chambers."
"Great. I really appreciate it. Mind if I call him out to meet you real quick, and we can let him know about tomorrow? He's just in the back doing dishes."
"Certainly. But make it fast. I wouldn't want my soup to get cold," she said with a smile, laughing at her own corny joke. I'm a big fan of corny humor in a woman, so I made a mental note to myself to make more of an effort to spend time with her outside of everything else.
"Haha, ok. Will do. Be right back." I ran in the back and walked up to Ollie. Placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention, he recoiled slightly at the touch, much like he had that first night. Hoping I hadn't permanently driven him away, but still keeping my hand gently placed on his shoulder, I softly spoke to let him know that the judge was out in the dining room and wanted to meet him briefly.
He perked up at this. "Really? Ok, I'm coming." He rinsed and dried his hands, removed his apron, and followed me out to Judge Fernandes's table.
"Judge Fernandes, I'd like you to meet Oliver, the newest member of our crew here."
Oliver reached out his hand to greet her as she rose partway from her seat to meet his handshake. "Nice to meet you, Oliver." Shaking her phone in one hand as she sat back down, she continued, "My clerk just confirmed my schedule for me, and I plan on seeing you and Jeff tomorrow afternoon at 2 o'clock. Don't be late."
He looked pleasantly surprised that it had all been arranged already. "Oh, ok! I'll be there. Thank you, um, ma'am, uh, I mean, Your Grace."
She laughed a light, non-condescending laugh. "Thank you for the respect, young man. It's Your Honor, but in here you can just call me Maria. I don't need to feel old while I'm just eating my lunch."
"Ok, um, thank you, Maria. See you tomorrow."
"Yes, see you tomorrow, Oliver."
"Thank you, Maria. And now that we've let your soup get cold, I'll let you return to your lunch," I smiled as we left her tableside. I continued making my rounds to customers, while Ollie took the opportunity to clear some dishes from tables. I was still impressed by how naturally conscientious the kid was towards work.
As I made brief small talk with an elderly couple who came in most days for lunch, I overheard from a nearby table, "I can clear this for you, sir, if you're finished."
"Oh, yeeeesss, thank you. And what's YOUR name?" It was Eric, his voice dripping with a mixture of testosterone and sass. Oh, boy. I'd better get over there.
"Ollie, sir."
"Nice to meet you, Ollie. I'm Eric. Ooh, ooh, ooh, you sure are a cute young thing, aren't you? I look forward to seeing more of YOU." As I approached the table, I saw Eric eye the kid up and down as he stressed that final 'you'.
Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, Ollie replied, "Um, thank you, sir."
I came to his rescue just then, placing my hand possessively at the base of his neck as I stood at his side. This time he didn't flinch at the touch. "Now, now, Eric, I thought we'd discussed this about you hitting on the help here," I lightheartedly scolded Eric. "Young Oliver here is a hard worker, and we sure are glad to have him on our team. I know you'll be good to him, right Eric?"
As I talked up the kid, I looked over to his face with my smiling expression a mix of reassurance, pride, and affection, my hand still gently resting at the base of his neck. Ollie halfway returned my gaze and gave a slight smile before shyly looking back down at the dishes in his hands.
"Oh, yes, of course I will, Jeff. I just like to compliment beauty when I see it. See you around, Ollie!"
Ollie shuffled off without a word, rushing into the back to return to his duties.
"You are so terrible, Eric!" I laughed with him.
"You know darn well I'm just more direct than certain other people."
"Whatever," I said. "More crude is more like it."
"And you love me for it."
"I suppose I do. See you around."
We got through the rest of the day with ease. After the post-lunchtime lull hit and the dishes were under control, I directed Ollie to work with Jake, my evening assistant manager who had just arrived, to be trained on a few more things around the place while Kai and I finished up the inventory. Jake hated inventory as much as or maybe more than I did, and also was awful with numbers. But he was a good trainer, so I resolved to work with Kai while he took Ollie under his wing. Jake was a smoking-hot, locally-grown frat boy at the college, a buff 6'4" lacrosse team leader with wavy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a rough-cut jaw that looked like he'd gotten in a tussle or two over the years. Yet another bit of straight eye candy I seemed to specialize in collecting. He was even more distractingly hot than usual today, with a pair of skimpy blue running shorts tight enough to reveal the outline of his thick, snake-like soft cock, strategically tucked along his left hip, and a muscle shirt clinging to his rippling chest, cut short to expose the lower half of his eight-pack abs. The bastard knew full well that he was a walking wet dream, and he liked to flaunt it. With the two of them standing next to each other, I was afraid the place might burn down from the hotness. Nearly choking on my fast-beating heart as it leapt into my throat, I crouched down to pretend to tie my shoe as I surreptitiously adjusted my bulging crotch, and went over to Kai to resume this dreaded monthly counting project.
"Sorry I got a head start on the inventory without you, Kai. I know how much you love this awful crap."
"That's ok. You're just lucky to have me. You'd be missing thousands of dollars a month in supplies if it weren't for me. But being on the floor today wasn't bad. Finally, there isn't a single member of the team I want to kill, and everyone does their jobs competently. Even this new guy seems like he isn't a moron. Not having to spend energy plotting murders is all I really want out of life. I hope that can last."
"Me too. And all the same, I'm glad to have you around, with that friend of yours with the pig farm, in case that ever does become necessary." We both laughed at our rapid descent into morbid jokes. Both Kai and Phoebe had a knack for bringing out the dark humor in me.
4 o'clock rolled around, and I realized it was time to send Ollie home for the day. I looked over at the kid and his much taller and bigger trainer, momentarily losing my breath at the smoldering sight of two model-quality young guys standing at the cash registers. Meeting my gaze, Jake flashed me a knowing wink and a grin. The guy knew how hot he was. I went over and grasped Jake's rock-solid bare upper arm, peering into his sparkling blue eyes as I thanked him for helping to train Ollie. Releasing my brief grip on that chiseled work of art, I pulled Ollie aside and subtly handed the kid a set of housekeys to let himself back into my place.
Speaking in hushed tones, I told him, "I'll be back probably around 6. Make yourself at home."
"Ok. I think I'll just go for a run first. Might not be back again until 6 myself."
"Whatever works for you. Glad to hear you're taking advantage of the trails, but I don't want you to feel like to you have to report your whereabouts to me all the time, ok?"
"Sure. Thanks. See ya."
Since he seemed to be more at ease around me again, I had the wherewithal this time to savor the view as he walked out the door. I was starting to warm up to those tight orange shorts. I still preferred those basketball shorts and the way they clung along his crack to highlight each of his firm cheeks, but the shorts did frame the whole glorious package quite nicely.
Kai probably knew what I was doing at that moment, but if it didn't have a set of boobs, the topic didn't interest her in the slightest. "Yo, boss, I need you to tally these up for me!"
"Yup, coming." I hustled back to my post, hoping to get through this stupid inventory stuff quickly. With Kai in charge of the project, keeping her ADD boss on task, the time flew by, and I was able to head home by 5:30.
Ollie returned from his jog shortly after I returned home. He had changed into that old grubby T-shirt and my favorite basketball shorts, which he seemed to have repurposed into his workout outfit. The T-shirt clung to his torso, tightly hugging the valley between his developing pecs and four-pack abs.
"Hey, Jeff," he panted, as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen to grab a tall glass of water.
I busied myself in the kitchen prepping a little dinner for us while I spooned out some supper for Tom and Jerry in their little side-by-side dishes. My orphaned fur-babies came bolting into the kitchen from their perches on the porch. Had they been the lions they thought they were, instead of the tiny kittens they actually were, they would have knocked over Ollie in their excitement to reach their prey.
"I wish I had their energy, or even yours for that matter, Ollie."
"You kept up with me pretty well, yesterday."
"Yeah, ok, sure. Thanks for the pity."
"Want to go for another little jog after dinner? It was nice to have some time to myself on my run, but I feel fired up for another round."
"I probably could use the exercise. Yeah, sure, let's do it."
"Cool. Then I hope you don't mind if I don't shower before dinner. I know I'm a mess."
"No, no problem at all." Left unsaid was that him standing a couple feet away from me, sweating out those teenage hormones, was driving me wild. I definitely did NOT want him to shower too soon.
We went through dinner in a comfortable silence, interrupted only by a compliment on the food, or an occasional grunt from one or another of us. It was nice to have someone around who let me eat in peace when I wanted to, and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. After dinner, Ollie cleaned up while I changed into my running clothes and did a few stretches.
We repeated the same four-mile loop of the day before, returning back in plenty of time for us each to take a quick shower and for us to stream an episode of something before I had to get some sleep. I took the first shower, then went into the closet in the bedroom to change into some sweats and a T-shirt. Coming back into the hallway, I was met by Ollie emerging from an ultra-fast shower. Although now he knew where the towels were and could choose any one he wanted, he had opted for the same size skimpy towel I had strategically selected for him the day before. I wasn't sure if he was trying to torture me or if he just liked the towel. As he stood there, I quickly took in the sight nevertheless, his treasure trail and V pointing toward where the towel clung tightly to the outline of his low-hanging, plump, circumcised penis, protruding out enough to indicate that it hung over a healthy-sized set of teenage balls. On his smooth, hairless torso, I was happy to notice his bruises fading.
Whistling out a cat-call, I half-jokingly said, "Looking good, kid! Hurry up and get changed, and we'll watch an episode of something before I have to turn in."
His cheeks turned red as he looked up and past me to the bedroom. "Um, haha, ok, I'll be right out."
To my delighted surprise, he emerged from his room in only a thin pair of boxer shorts. Clearly, he wasn't shy around me. Thank God for whoever raised this kid not to be modest, or whatever sports activity got him used to walking around half-naked.
He looked slightly downward as he approached the sofa where I sat, asking softly, "Um, would you mind if we, ah, sat together?"
"Sure, kiddo. Have a seat," I said, patting the cushion to my right. He plopped down right next to me, his thigh pressed against mine, and promptly leaned toward my side. I reached my arm around his shoulders, and rested my right hand on his upper arm. Tom and Jerry hopped up and each claimed a lap to conquer. Handing Ollie the remote, I said, "Here, kiddo, you're in charge. Queue up whatever you want."
"How about Breaking Bad?"
"Good choice. As long as it's not that first episode. Certain scenes I'm a little too queasy towards."
"Deal. I don't like that stuff much either." I felt his body shake with a slight chuckle as he snuggled into my side. For an ostensibly straight boy, he sure seemed comfortable with and even craving of physical affection from an older male. I thought perhaps before all the events of the prior year, he and his father had had a warm and close relationship. That might only have made the pain of disappointment that much worse.
We both stared ahead at the screen as we sat comfortably cuddled together on the sofa, while I gently stroked his right arm with my fingertips. As the episode came to an end, I briefly squeezed him tight into me, saying "It's nice having you here, kiddo."
"Mm," he purred, still pressed into my side.
Releasing him and retracting my arm from around his shoulders, I said, "I really should turn in and get some shut-eye out here. You all set in your room?"
"You mean your room that you're letting me stay in? Yeah, I'm all set. But, um, do you think maybe you might, you know, maybe..." He looked down at his feet as he squirmed his way through what he was trying to say.
"Sure, kiddo. No problem." Reading his mind, I didn't make him finish the sentence. The poor kid seemed awkward enough in the moment.
"Ok, cool. I think I'm tired enough to get to sleep this early."
"Ok. Race ya there!" We tossed off our tiny feline lap-oppressors and bolted down the hallway toward the bedroom. He beat me, of course. Reaching the bed, I slowly shed the sweatpants and T-shirt and tossed them onto the chair in the corner, climbing in on one side as Ollie climbed in on the other, looking up toward me with a shy half-smile.
I scooted my way over to him as he moved himself toward the middle of the bed. Extending my left arm for him to rest his head on, and angling to leave a respectful space between our midsections, I pressed my chest against his strong, smooth back and draped my right arm over his chest, letting my hand rest on the bedsheet beside him. Drawing up the blankets over us, I asked him if he was comfortable.
"Yes, thank you," he said as he scooched his butt backwards, right into my crotch. By that point, I was already hard as a rock, with my heart thumping and my glans throbbing against the tight fabric of my boxer briefs. My cloth covered cock came to rest between the thin fabric of his boxers and the warmth of the crack between his rock-hard cheeks.
Hoping not to make him feel needlessly awkward, I whispered, "There are certain physical reactions I can't exactly help, kiddo. Hope you're still comfortable."
"It's ok. I trust you. Good night, Jeff." As he said this, he lightly wiggled his butt against my cock, pressed his back against my chest, burrowed his head into my arm, sighed contentedly, and drifted off to sleep.
It took me a few minutes to slow my heartrate in this position, but finally I was able to calm down and soon fell asleep as well.
TO BE CONTINUED...