Date: Wed, 14 May 2008 22:39:13 GMT From: "user459@netzero.net" Subject: Adult/Youth - Rest Stop 13 Rest Stop 13 **Thanks to all of you for the overwhelming positive feedback I have received during the course of this story. I was inspired by an actual experience as described in the first installment and embellished with fantasy from that point on. I hope you will find this last chapter as good as the first twelve.** Kyle and I got back in the car and headed down the highway. We were both very quiet and absorbed in thought. I was trying to figure out how many times I had cum this weekend. I lost count at eight or nine! I thought I'd better cool it for a while. I looked over at Kyle and he was dozing with his head leaning against the window. He looked so young! He had all the makings of a beautiful young man. His face was fair and smooth. Any hint of facial hair would have been undetectable due to his blonde hair. His muscles were starting to develop some tone from playing soccer and his T shirt hugged a well defined chest. I could see his chest rise and fall with each deep breath. His tight shorts barely contained his thighs, well developed from running on the soccer field. His feet seemed big for his age or maybe it was the sneakers that made them look bigger than they really were. I hadn't really paid that much attention to them before, but made a mental note to do so if I had another chance. His hands also seemed good-sized as they lay in his lap. He stirred when I changed lanes and unconsciously ran his hand over his crotch. He didn't open his eyes, but got in a little scratch in that area, as boys are known to do. He settled back into his snooze and I tried to keep my eyes on the road. Our exit was coming up in four miles, so I decided to let him nap a few more minutes. At one mile from the exit I tried to gently wake him. "Kyle, we're almost there," I said, "you'd better wake up." "OK, I'm awake," he mumbled as he stretched and yawned. "I guess I was kinda tired." "Yeah, you slept the whole trip!" I said. "Is your mom going to be waiting at the school?" "Oh, no, she's still at her sister's house. That's why she didn't pick me up at the soccer camp. She won't be home until tomorrow," he explained. "Then where are you staying? Where can I drop you off?" I asked. "Just drop me off at home; if that's no trouble," he said, "Mom knows I'll be there alone tonight. I'll be OK." "No trouble at all, I just didn't think you should be left home alone like that." "I do it all the time. Mom can't always be there for me, and there's no dad around, so I can take care of myself," he said. "It's no big deal." "All right, then. Tell me how to get there." I said. Kyle navigated and I drove and we got to his apartment complex in about ten minutes. It was not too far from where I lived; just on the other side of the highway. It was a decent complex with two story townhouses with garages. We pulled in to his unit and Kyle hopped out of the car and punched in a code on the keypad next to the garage door. The garage opened and he motioned for me to pull the car in. I hesitated, not knowing why he would want me to do that, but then pulled in and he shut the door behind me. "Why did you do that?" I asked as I got out of the car. "Too many nosy neighbors!" he said. "Come on in." He unlocked the door and led the way into the bright apartment. It was very nice and welcoming. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked in such a grown-up host like manner. "Sure, I'd really like some water." Kyle went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottled waters and motioned for me to go into the family room and sit down. We opened the bottles and took a nice long swig of cold water. "So..." I said nervously. I was trying to fill the silence in an awkward moment when I was sitting here alone in an apartment with a delectable twelve year old boy. I had to wonder where this was going. "Um, I needed to, um, tell you something," he stammered. "OK, what?" "I feel like I have to tell you about how I feel about this weekend," he said. "You don't really know that much about me and then we went and did all this stuff, I mean with Jamie and everything..." His voice trailed off. "Kyle, are you uncomfortable with what happened? I'm so sorry if I hurt you or upset you!" "Oh, no, Mike! It's not that!" he said through teary red eyes, "That's just what I've been wanting to happen! It was a dream come true for me!" "What's upsetting you, Kyle?" I asked. I scooted over on the couch next to him and he buried his chest into my neck and sobbed. After a minute he straightened up and wiped his tears and composed himself. "I have to get through this, Mike," he said determinedly. "Just listen, OK?" "OK, I'm listening, Kyle." I said as I settled back into the cushions of the couch. "When we lived in Chesterfield I had a babysitter that used to take care of me when my mom and dad were at work since I was about eight years old. She was really nice, but when she graduated high school she couldn't baby-sit anymore. Anyway, so, when I was almost ten her brother took over for her. He was nice, too, and took good care of me. He would fix food for me and made sure I had a bath and everything. He would come in and help me wash up when I was in the bathtub. I would get hard when he washed me down there, but I didn't think much of it. It just felt good. He started taking more and more time washing me there until he wasn't really washing me any more; he was playing with my dick. I liked it, though, and never told him to stop it. One night he washed me up and started going up and down on my dick real fast until I felt like I was going to pee. At first I wanted him to stop, but I thought that since I was in the tub anyway, what did it matter if I peed? "He kept doing it and I didn't pee, but I got this feeling I couldn't understand. I felt weak and good at the same time and I shook all over. Then he told me I had a dry cum. We did that a lot after my bath most nights." "One night he got me out of the tub and dried me off without doing it. He carried me to my bed and laid me down on my back. My dick was already hard from thinking he was going to do me again, but instead, he put his head down there and sucked on my dick. That was even better than what he was doing before. I really liked that and we did it a lot. I even did it to him after a while and he showed me lots of stuff. By the time I was ten and a half we had even fucked each other. He never forced me or anything and I liked doing it with him". "One night when he was babysitting, we were watching TV and I was sitting on his lap on the couch. He lifted me up and pulled my pajamas down and lowered me onto his hard cock. We had done this a few times before and were really getting into it when the door opened and my parents came in. There was nothing we could do; they could see I was sitting on his dick and getting fucked! My father went nuts and pulled me off him and threw me up against the wall. He grabbed the babysitter and threw him out the door with his dick still out." "You dirty little faggot!" he called me. "I won't live in the same house with a queer like you!" "He sent me to my room and my mother and father argued and yelled all night long. When I got up in the morning, he was gone. He didn't come back and we moved here. I haven't seen him since." "So that's why it didn't hurt when you did it to me. I liked it so much, Mike! I missed doing that kind of stuff. I especially liked doing it with you and Jamie because I knew you cared about me." Kyle relaxed and leaned back into me. I just held him there while he settled down. He seemed relieved and happy to get that off his chest. "Kyle, thanks for telling me that. I appreciate you being so honest with me. I have to tell you I had a similar experience but it was a bit more violent than your experience and we didn't get caught. No one ever found out about it, so I had to hide it all my life, until now. I'll have to tell you about it some time." "Why not tell me about it now, Mike?" he asked. I couldn't come up with a good answer, so I spilled my guts to a twelve year old kid. It was the first time in all those years I let the truth out. Along with the truth came the anger and resentment and hurt. Kyle listened and held my hand through the whole thing. I cried and sobbed and he was there to comfort me. When I was through I was drained and exhausted. Kyle held me in his arms. It seems kind of silly to think of an adult man being comforted by a twelve year old boy, but he did more for me in those few minutes than a psychiatrist or psychologist could have done in years. "I'm sorry, Mike," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault. I know how you feel. I blamed myself for a long time, thinking I made my father go away, but then I realized what an asshole he really was!" "Kyle, you are wise beyond your years," I said. "Let's do this again some time, but right now I have to get home to my wife and daughter. I love them, too, you know." "I love you, too, Mike, I hope we can see each other again, I mean, outside of soccer practice. Maybe Jamie can come, too. You never know..." Kyle said with a gleam in his eye. "What are you two cooking up now?" I asked. I grabbed him for one more hug and then headed for the door. "See you tomorrow at soccer practice!"