Disclaimer: Please be advised that this material is intended for a mature gay audience only. If you are under age, or offended by Gay erotic material you should probably read no further.
Should you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy this fictional story of a young man's quest for love and acceptance. The boy in this story is real; the events and settings are not. I will be pleased to answer any questions and welcome any comments. Each will be considered and replied to as I have opportunity to do so. Email me at boyzheart@hotmail.com
Steven Chapter 1
May 16, 2002
Josh,
Well, you should be well on the way to the Islands my friend! Did I ever tell you how much I envy you of traveling to that part of the world?? I am of course interested in travel and seeing different parts of the world. So far God has been good to me and I have seen lots of places ... but not the Hawaiian Islands. But that is a dream, one day it may be realized.
I hope the weather cooperates with you and you have a great and safe journey.
I wanted to begin telling you of a young friend I made as a young man. It may take several emails for me to relate the story to you. His name was (is) Steven. Steven Worley. I first came to know Steven when he was yet a small boy, only twelve years old. He had bright red hair and beautiful brown eyes trimmed with long curly eyelashes that were a very dark red themselves.
Steven hated the freckles that bathed his entire face, arms and hands ... but I adored them. I told him often that my Aunt used to tell me that freckles were angel kisses, and that those children littered with freckles were heavens favorites! He would beam and his eyes twinkled every time I told him that story.
Steven had a troubled childhood. This is how I came to know him. One day his natural mother had him get one pair of blue jeans, one shirt, one pair of socks, and one pair of underpants. . . put them in a brown paper bag and get in the car. She drove him to the next town (where I lived) and made him get out of the car at his natural Father's house. While leaning against the car, yet uncertain of the mission he was on, the mother called the father on the cell phone and told the dad that Steven was on the doorstep with all his belongings and she would not come back . ..Steven was no longer her concern. She hung up the phone and drove away leaving Steven crying after her in the driveway.
The Step Mother was an active church member in the church I attended, and I was actually work partners with the boy's natural father. So from the start I was aware of the trauma the family was going through. One evening at church the Step Mother confided in me that she was struggling to communicate with the boy as she was never ever around boys her whole life, coming from a family of girls and having two daughters by this marriage .. the advent of a stubborn, hateful, resentful little boy was all so overwhelming for her.
To her credit, she did try to be a good mother. She took the boy to get new clothes and got him enrolled in school .. but he was obviously struggling. She asked me to please see if I could talk to him, befriend him to get him to open up and be secure in his new home. The father was one of those types who was always on the construction site, big burly, foul actually. . and when he wasn't at work. . . he was hunting .. no time for a pesky little kid who wasn't big enough to hold a rifle.
Enter Andy on the scene...