Chad, the Ideal Lad
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
13,262
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
13,262
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction about oral and anal sex between a man and a seven-year old boy. The characters, locations & incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coi
Chapter 18 - Coming to an End
©2009 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Thanksgiving is the time for feasting, family, fun, and fond remembrances.
.oOo.
Gwen invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. I brought two bottles of wine. Gwen bustled about the kitchen while her "menfolk" watched football, and debated sports. Roger knew much more than I about the various teams; Phillip could have given him a stronger defense. Chad sat between us, at least when he was sitting. He kept popping up to shout at the TV and to get more chips and to bring us beers and usually for no apparent reason other than seven-year old antsiness.
In the middle of the fourth quarter, the score was tied up, and even I was getting excited about the game. Then Gwen announced, "All right, Men. I have all the food on the table. Come get it while it's hot." I sat on one side of the table with my lovely Chad, Roger and Gwen on the other side. We feasted on all the traditions: turkey, yams, stuffing, succotash, cranberry sauce and gravy, accompanied by my wine. Chad and I kept exchanging glances and when the opportunity was right I snuck a hand under the table and grabbed his crotch. He giggled, but Gwen and Roger were too absorbed in each other to notice.
I remembered when Phillip and I played with Sunny and Peanut's dicks under the table. We were spending a week at the fanciest hotel in Hikkaduwa, Sri Lanka, Coral something-or-other. The staff prided themselves on providing the guests with only the finest amenities and that included the boys they sent to "entertain" us. Sunil and Pina were nine-year old twins who had gone to school to learn all the ways to please the male tourists. The concierge even showed us copies of their diplomas! From their performance, Sunny and Peanut must have graduated head of the class. Unlike Butch, they knew all about safe sex. They were so identical I couldn't tell them apart until I had my cock well implanted up their ass. Then they would respond—Sunny with contented moans and Peanut with happy shrieks (or vice versa, I forget which now). After a very satisfying fuck each night, we'd all put on our shirts and shorts and head to the main dining room for a late dinner. Sunny and Peanut felt very special; the Europeans never took their boys out of their rooms. Phillip, Sunny, me and Peanut sat around a small table, and held our chopsticks in our right hand. Then with our free hand we opened the fly of our neighbor's shorts and played with his dick. A circle jerk. Right in the main dining room, with its crystal, china, and conveniently long linen tablecloths. I'm sure the waiters and other patrons all knew what we were doing.
After Roger and I had seconds on turkey, and Chad had thirds, Gwen said, "Let's wait a while before dessert to give the food time to settle." Even Chad thought that was a good idea. Everyone helped clear the table, and pack up the leftovers to store in the fridge. Gwen fixed a plate of everything for me take "for lunch tomorrow" and another tupperware container for Barney. Then she urged "Muffin" to give us a piano recital in the living room. He didn't need much urging, natural born ham that he is. He didn't make too many false notes. I've had a lot of first year students who would've done far worse. The "Indian Song" was this week's piece, in honor of the holiday, so I knew he'd completed his whole repertoire. But he said, "I got one more song. It's a sprise. It's the Whippy-Willie Song." Gwen looked at me. I shrugged. All I could think of was "My Blue Heaven," and he certainly wasn't ready to play that. We sat back to listen.
Chad stood up, adjusted the piano bench, sat down, wiggled his ass, put his hands in position, gave a little smirk, and started to play: G, C, high C. He repeated it over and over as the three adults laughed ourselves silly. He'd taken us in. I said to Gwen, "The kid sure does have a good ear."
"Come on, Mom. You gotta play now." Roger and I agreed and Gwen and her son exchanged places. She played a bunch of standards, some Beatles, no Sondheim. Some brought tears to her eyes, and I expect they may have been some of Chad Senior's favorites. For others, she looked at Roger, so she was already collecting a new set of favorites. Then it was my turn. I didn't want to steal the show, so I only played one song, "My Blue Heaven," and was happy when Roger and Gwen began to sing along. "Wow," said my little admirer, "you don't even have to have the music."
"Who's ready for some dessert?" Somehow we all were able to make room for Gwen's pumpkin pie. Chad belched and naturally all three males found that hilarious. Roger poured another round of wine and Gwen said she had an announcement to make. "Roger has asked me to marry him and I said yes." She held out her left hand to show us the ring. So much for taking things slow. She'd known him a little over three months. But I was happy for her, for both of them. I guess to tell the truth, for all three of them.
I raised my glass. "I wish you all the happiness in the world." We clinked across the table. Roger took Chad's half filled water glass and put a splash of wine in it so he could join in the toast. He was grinning happily, which honestly gave me mixed feelings. I turned to Roger. "So when is the big day going to be?"
"In April. Foster, I want you to be one of the groomsmen. Actually, I wanted you to be my best man, but my brother wouldn't understand. Please say yes."
"Yes, Foster, please," repeated Gwen.
"How could I say no?"
"And Muffin, you'll carry our wedding rings down the aisle." Roger and I exchanged glances; we both knew the boy was tiring of that name.
"But there's more," said Roger. I braced myself for the next revelation. He looked toward his fiancée dreamily. "Gwen's going to move in with me right after New Year's."
"Who'll take care of me then?" Poor confused Chad. Roger could have worded that better.
"Muffin, Silly. We'll both be moving," comforted his mother. "We'll be starting our new family."
"OK."
I wasn't totally OK though. Roger lived four hours away. My happy impromptu times with this ideal lad were coming to an end. But by sheer force of will, I didn't let my disappointment show. "I know you'll be hiring a band, but I'd consider it a great honor if I could play the piano for your first dance."
"Oh, Foster. What a beautiful idea," Gwen said, speaking for both. "We'd love that very much."
Chad wanted to add something. "And I'll play Twinkie, Twinkie Little Star." We all looked at him, afraid to hurt his fragile feelings. Then he burst out laughing. "Fooled ja!"
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Thanksgiving is the time for feasting, family, fun, and fond remembrances.
.oOo.
Gwen invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. I brought two bottles of wine. Gwen bustled about the kitchen while her "menfolk" watched football, and debated sports. Roger knew much more than I about the various teams; Phillip could have given him a stronger defense. Chad sat between us, at least when he was sitting. He kept popping up to shout at the TV and to get more chips and to bring us beers and usually for no apparent reason other than seven-year old antsiness.
In the middle of the fourth quarter, the score was tied up, and even I was getting excited about the game. Then Gwen announced, "All right, Men. I have all the food on the table. Come get it while it's hot." I sat on one side of the table with my lovely Chad, Roger and Gwen on the other side. We feasted on all the traditions: turkey, yams, stuffing, succotash, cranberry sauce and gravy, accompanied by my wine. Chad and I kept exchanging glances and when the opportunity was right I snuck a hand under the table and grabbed his crotch. He giggled, but Gwen and Roger were too absorbed in each other to notice.
I remembered when Phillip and I played with Sunny and Peanut's dicks under the table. We were spending a week at the fanciest hotel in Hikkaduwa, Sri Lanka, Coral something-or-other. The staff prided themselves on providing the guests with only the finest amenities and that included the boys they sent to "entertain" us. Sunil and Pina were nine-year old twins who had gone to school to learn all the ways to please the male tourists. The concierge even showed us copies of their diplomas! From their performance, Sunny and Peanut must have graduated head of the class. Unlike Butch, they knew all about safe sex. They were so identical I couldn't tell them apart until I had my cock well implanted up their ass. Then they would respond—Sunny with contented moans and Peanut with happy shrieks (or vice versa, I forget which now). After a very satisfying fuck each night, we'd all put on our shirts and shorts and head to the main dining room for a late dinner. Sunny and Peanut felt very special; the Europeans never took their boys out of their rooms. Phillip, Sunny, me and Peanut sat around a small table, and held our chopsticks in our right hand. Then with our free hand we opened the fly of our neighbor's shorts and played with his dick. A circle jerk. Right in the main dining room, with its crystal, china, and conveniently long linen tablecloths. I'm sure the waiters and other patrons all knew what we were doing.
After Roger and I had seconds on turkey, and Chad had thirds, Gwen said, "Let's wait a while before dessert to give the food time to settle." Even Chad thought that was a good idea. Everyone helped clear the table, and pack up the leftovers to store in the fridge. Gwen fixed a plate of everything for me take "for lunch tomorrow" and another tupperware container for Barney. Then she urged "Muffin" to give us a piano recital in the living room. He didn't need much urging, natural born ham that he is. He didn't make too many false notes. I've had a lot of first year students who would've done far worse. The "Indian Song" was this week's piece, in honor of the holiday, so I knew he'd completed his whole repertoire. But he said, "I got one more song. It's a sprise. It's the Whippy-Willie Song." Gwen looked at me. I shrugged. All I could think of was "My Blue Heaven," and he certainly wasn't ready to play that. We sat back to listen.
Chad stood up, adjusted the piano bench, sat down, wiggled his ass, put his hands in position, gave a little smirk, and started to play: G, C, high C. He repeated it over and over as the three adults laughed ourselves silly. He'd taken us in. I said to Gwen, "The kid sure does have a good ear."
"Come on, Mom. You gotta play now." Roger and I agreed and Gwen and her son exchanged places. She played a bunch of standards, some Beatles, no Sondheim. Some brought tears to her eyes, and I expect they may have been some of Chad Senior's favorites. For others, she looked at Roger, so she was already collecting a new set of favorites. Then it was my turn. I didn't want to steal the show, so I only played one song, "My Blue Heaven," and was happy when Roger and Gwen began to sing along. "Wow," said my little admirer, "you don't even have to have the music."
"Who's ready for some dessert?" Somehow we all were able to make room for Gwen's pumpkin pie. Chad belched and naturally all three males found that hilarious. Roger poured another round of wine and Gwen said she had an announcement to make. "Roger has asked me to marry him and I said yes." She held out her left hand to show us the ring. So much for taking things slow. She'd known him a little over three months. But I was happy for her, for both of them. I guess to tell the truth, for all three of them.
I raised my glass. "I wish you all the happiness in the world." We clinked across the table. Roger took Chad's half filled water glass and put a splash of wine in it so he could join in the toast. He was grinning happily, which honestly gave me mixed feelings. I turned to Roger. "So when is the big day going to be?"
"In April. Foster, I want you to be one of the groomsmen. Actually, I wanted you to be my best man, but my brother wouldn't understand. Please say yes."
"Yes, Foster, please," repeated Gwen.
"How could I say no?"
"And Muffin, you'll carry our wedding rings down the aisle." Roger and I exchanged glances; we both knew the boy was tiring of that name.
"But there's more," said Roger. I braced myself for the next revelation. He looked toward his fiancée dreamily. "Gwen's going to move in with me right after New Year's."
"Who'll take care of me then?" Poor confused Chad. Roger could have worded that better.
"Muffin, Silly. We'll both be moving," comforted his mother. "We'll be starting our new family."
"OK."
I wasn't totally OK though. Roger lived four hours away. My happy impromptu times with this ideal lad were coming to an end. But by sheer force of will, I didn't let my disappointment show. "I know you'll be hiring a band, but I'd consider it a great honor if I could play the piano for your first dance."
"Oh, Foster. What a beautiful idea," Gwen said, speaking for both. "We'd love that very much."
Chad wanted to add something. "And I'll play Twinkie, Twinkie Little Star." We all looked at him, afraid to hurt his fragile feelings. Then he burst out laughing. "Fooled ja!"
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.