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Category: Caliboy1991 (Page 4 of 28)

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 12

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 12
By
Caliboy1991

My shoulder shook from a soft touch, “Syd?”

The hazy edges of a dream drifted away on the clouds of my subconsciousness. “Syd?”

I blinked a couple of times. Gabe sat on the edge of the bed, closest to me. He wore his standard nighttime attire; his white cotton briefs. I mumbled, “You okay, sweetie?”

He sighed, “I really tried to go to sleep on the sofa. I didn’t want to wake you up like I did this morning, um. You know, ah, beside you.”

Was that a hint of guilt about touching me when he thought I was asleep? Oh, if only he knew.

I found his hand and clasped it, “I enjoy waking up with you by my side, sweetie. I especially enjoyed this morning.”

His voice squeaked, “You did?”

Had he known I was awake? I don’t suppose it mattered. What mattered was he was sitting next to me, wanting to sleep by my side. I ignored his comment, “I know what I need now. Climb into bed and give me a hug.”

Despite the darkness, Gabe’s features softened as he came around the bed and crawled next to me. I turned my back to him, “Can you put your arms around me and hold me?”

His chest touched my back as his right arm slid around my stomach. His left hand slid between me and the bed until he could clasp them together. I closed my eyes and thought about how nice it felt to have him hold me, him the big spoon, me the small spoon. He topped me by an inch at the most, but I wondered how it would feel in a year or two when he would top me by four, maybe even six inches. But for now, I drifted back to sleep, basking in the warmth of his body against mine.

I woke to something warm on my chest. It was still dark outside as I realized one of Gabe’s hands cupped one of my tits. His other hand rested against my stomach and his warm breath touched my neck. His familiar deep breaths told me he was still asleep. That didn’t bother me any. Some small part of my desire to be dominated by Gabe was fulfilled.

That’s when I realized more than just his hand was on me. Something warm pushed against my butt. A thrill surged through me as realization hit. Gabe’s erection was nestled between my butt cheeks. I snuggled against his body and moved his hand from my stomach to my other breast. Maybe it wasn’t the same as my fantasies of being dominated, but I needed the intimacy.

I don’t know how much time passed before Gabe stirred. There was a hitch in his breathing. The rhythmic pounding of his heart against my back changed; it beat faster. His fingers squeezed my tits. I felt a pulse between my cheeks. Thinking about how he felt guilty about touching me the previous morning, I flexed my body, pushing against his groin and moaning, like I was just awakening. My voice was tired, “Mmm, I don’t think someone has ever awakened me in such a nice way.”

Gabe gasped and moved his hands down, clasping them between my belly and my breast. Still, he hadn’t let go. He stammered, “I-, I’m sorry, Syd. I woke up and my hands were already there.”

I flexed my ass, hopefully sending chills along his body as I replied, “There’s nothing to apologize for, sweetie. I feel so much better when you hold me like this. How did you sleep?”

He relaxed at the question, “Better. Sleeping next to you is so much better than sleeping by myself. I mean, I know you said it’s okay. But are you sure?”

I took one of his hands and put it back on my chest, “Does this feel like a breast that’s not sure?”

He giggled, his breath tickling my back, “No. It’s really nice.”

He fell silent. Less than a minute later, his other hand returned to my other breast. I melted against his body, enjoying the moment at least as much as he did. The sun creeped over the mountains; feeble light drifted through the blackout curtains. But I didn’t care. I could stay like this all day long, if it meant Gabe’s hands on my tits and his cock against my ass.

He broke the silence, “Syd, c-, can we kiss?”

My heart fluttered in confusion. On one hand, I wanted him to force me around and for him to put his tongue into my mouth. On the other, I was simply happy he wanted me. I shifted around until by tits pressed against his chest. His boner no longer poked my butt. Now it poked at my pubic mound. Either way was fine with me. His arms were clasped together against my back. We moved our faces toward each other until our lips touched. A few heartbeats later, he pulled back, “I like how your lips feel.”

My own breathing was rough, “Me too. Kiss me again.”

His lips formed against mine, and as our lips pushed together, I slid my tongue out and touched his lips with it. He surprised me by how quickly he opened his lips and let my tongue inside. My stomach turned to butterflies, and I felt hot between my legs when his tongue met mine and they intertwined with one another.

When he broke the kiss, he gave me a silly grin, “Holy shit, that’s even better than it sounded in your books.”

I chuckled. It was only as I leaned in and kissed in again that I realized Gabe’s kissing was much better than before. The little horn-dog was learning from my books!

I leaned into him and playfully nibbled on his lip, “Show me it wasn’t a fluke, my love.”

He pushed against me, our lips crushing together. His tongue was the first to bridge the divide. For six long years, I’ve wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by someone who knew what they were doing. Kyle had stuck his tongue in my mouth the same way he’d fucked me; badly. Now, Gabe’s tongue darted around my mouth, tangling with mine, then running along my teeth, then sucking on my tongue. I was on fire with lust for this gorgeous twelve-year-old. If only he would take control.

When the kiss ended, his eyes were slightly glazed. We both said, “Wow,” at the same time. For five years, I’ve written scenes of my heroines kissing their bad-boy lover, knowing that what they were experiencing on the page was a hundred times better than that one horrible experience. Now, I would never have that handicap again.

His face was only inches away from mine. I hoped against hope that kiss would be enough to stir him to action, and to dominate me. He chewed on his lower lip until he figured out what he wanted to say, “You remember last week, Sid? When we were in here. That thing you did?”

My heart matched his, as it thundered in my chest, “You mean sucking on you?”

He flushed and nodded.

I didn’t wait for him to say or do anything. As lightly as possible, I pushed him onto his back and took hold of his underwear and pulled them off, freeing his boner. Only a week had passed since last I’d seen it. As my fingers caressed his pale skin, he was as smooth as before. Maybe it was my longing, but it seemed slightly larger.

As badly as I wanted to take him in my mouth, to pleasure him in ways he’s yet to imagine, some primal need overwhelmed me and I said, “You want me to give you a blowjob?”

He bobbed his head, “Yeah.”

My face was inches away from his hard, smooth five inches, “Tell me, Gabe. I’m your slut, you’re in charge. Tell me!”

His penis twitched, “Syd, y-, y-, you slut. S-, suck my d-, dick!”

His face was crimson, as though each word shamed him. All I cared about was that he had taken charge. I pushed my hair behind my ears and bent over until my tongue flicked across Gabe’s glans. He hissed in pleasure, “Ahh!”

My tongue swirled around his bullet shaped head. A slight pungency touched my tastebuds. There was a faint hint of urine, but mostly just Gabe’s musky essence. As I took his head in my mouth, even that faded to the taste of skin. My tongue teased his glans while my lips slid across the slight ridge of his circumcision scar. Those first two inches were amazing. Gabe lay prone, his hands clasped under his head. The only sign he was awake were tiny mewing noises from his throat.

Gabe flexed his butt, sending another inch sliding through my lips. I did my part, taking more of him. My lips touched the base of his penis as the tip tickled the back of my throat. I’d watched dozens, maybe even hundreds of videos of girls sucking guys, but this was a first for me, and the sweet sounds coming from Gabe only made me hornier. I kept as much suction around my lips as possible and pulled back until I let his entire five inches pop free.

The soft mewing stopped until my tongue licked at the underside of his cock, licking and kissing along the urethra vein. I kissed the base of his shaft and moved down until I sucked at his balls, until I sucked both into my mouth. They were bigger than I expected. I kept one in and let the other slide free, sucking them gently. Finally, Gabe moaned, “That tickles, Syd. Suck my dick… please!”

His plaintive cry sent me back to his glans and this time, I pushed my face down, taking him all the way down, my lips touching his pubic bone and the tip of his cock grazing against my throat. My tongue slid and darted along Gabe’s shaft, teasing out more mewing noises. I picked up the pace, pulling back and plunging down, again and again. His butt tremored and his hands, which had laid on my shoulders, now gripped them and pulled me down, pushing my lips against his pubic bone.

Gabe moaned as his cock spasmed in my mouth. A drop of his immature semen hit the back of my throat. He spasmed again and something sweet and tart hit my tongue. His penis shuddered several more times, trying to give up what his body wasn’t quite ready to make. I pulled back, letting his erection slide through my lips. His five inches quivered when it slid out from between my lips.

His entire body shuddered one last time, “Oh! My! God!” he almost shouted. “That was a bazillion times better than when you jacked on me.”

If ever I was glad we picked an isolated campsite, it was then.

***

The sun was as close to being overhead as it could be, and the shade provided by the high walls of the RV was gone. The clock in the taskbar showed I had been working for over three hours already and my stomach grumbled that was too long.

Gabe stretched, balancing his laptop on his legs. “It’s almost twelve-thirty, Syd. I’m hungry enough to reenact the Donner Party.”

I wished I had something to throw at him. Like me, he could go down rabbit holes of knowledge researching for a story. He had wanted to find out how far and fast wagons could go back in the Middle Ages. His research eventually took him to reading about the settlement of California in the nineteenth century. Really, mostly it was just reading the gruesome story of the Donner Party. And now I was left to pay the price. I set my laptop aside and rose, “If I hear one more word about the Donner Party, I’ll be having you for dinner, you imp. Speaking of which, you want a sandwich for lunch?”

We were using food from the fridge that might spoil first, leaving frozen meals and boxed dinners until the fresh deli meat was gone. Gabe nodded, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

We took our paper plates, loaded with sandwiches and potato chips, back to the lounge chairs and ate. Gabe had fallen back into his custom of wearing just a pair of shorts and sneakers. There was only one other RV in camp at the moment, so I wasn’t much more modest. I wore a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

When we finished, Gabe took my plate, “I need a break from writing, Syd. Why don’t we go exploring? There are trails nearby we can explore. Even creeks and lakes. I saw ‘em on the GPS map.”

I had nearly all the sequel to Give the Devil His Due outlined as well as a few notes for a couple of more books in the series. I wouldn’t mind a break, but going hiking didn’t sound like much fun. “I dunno, Gabe. Maybe we could find something on Netflix or something on Direct TV.”

He threw the trash into a bag we kept outside during the day and came back over to me. He had a curious look in his eye when he leaned over, resting his hands on the armrests, and let his lips touch mine. I wasn’t worried about anyone seeing us. The other RV was on the other side of the campgrounds, but the brazen kiss was bolder than anything Gabe had done before. He leaned in, until his face was near my ear, “Did you really mean it, about being mine?”

A thrill ran through my body. What was Gabe going on about? He was asking me about my deepest fantasy. Nothing excited me more than imaging him having his way with me. Even though I knew we were alone, I glanced about before nodding, “Yeah, sweetie. I’m yours.”

His lips brushed against mine again before he stood up. That look in his eyes was still there, “Cool. Then, woman, we’re going hiking. Come along.”

My eyebrows shot up in stunned surprise. Aside from the unbroken voice, he nearly had me convinced he was a billionaire bad boy. My body responded before my mind and I rose to my feet, “Are you ordering me to go hiking with you?”

His eyes darted to the ground and his face grew florid. His eyes twinkled, almost as if this were a joke. I expected him to relent. Gabe lacked the confidence to truly dominate me.

“Of course, Ms. Nelson. I’m the man and you’re my woman. Get your shoes on and let’s go.”

I followed after him as we found the nearby trailhead. The trail meandered along, and despite the temperature never getting much over seventy, we were soon sweating as we went along. After a bit, the trail ran parallel to a creek, and we followed along as both creek and trail ran under a two-lane highway. We were nearly an hour into our hike when my legs tired. Gabe seemed energized.

“Gabe, I need to rest for a few.”

He stopped, a concerned expression broke through the false bravado, “Just a bit further, Syd. I saw something on the GPS map, and we’re close.”

I groaned, “Five minutes. Okay.”

His only response was to hurry along the dirt trail hugging the gurgling creek. Almost five minutes later (and yes, I was counting it on my phone), he paused again, looked around. There was an incline to our right. “Just a sec. I think we’re close.”

He scampered up the incline and disappeared from view. He shouted, “Holy shit, this is sweet!”

I sighed. At least there were no bears around at the moment, although I was tempted to one-up old man Donner and slather honey all over Gabe and let the bear have their own picnic. My calves hurt by the time I reached the top of the incline. And I stood in awe. We stood in a meadow, surrounded on all sides by tall aspens, save for a narrow break on the other side of the clearing where a service road cut through. A closer inspection showed tire tracks through the ankle high grass. This was the perfect place to boondock. It was as remote a place as you could imagine. Gabe summed up my thoughts, “I bet the forest rangers don’t come here very often.”

We’d only seen one drive through the campground once in the three days since we arrived. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. To both the east and west, the mountains seemed closer and more majestic than in our camp, even though only a couple of miles separated us from this slice of Eden.

I turned to Gabe, “What would you do here than you couldn’t do at our current site?”

He looked one way and then the other before a grin split his face. He unzipped his shorts and a moment later, both shorts and underwear were on the ground and he ran around the meadow in nothing but his sneakers. “This is what I’d do. Come on, Syd. You can too.”

I looked around. We were more alone than we’d ever been before. Normally, that would give me a sense of lonely isolation. But right then, Gabe’s infectious spirit chased away any loneliness. I shrugged and pulled my sports bra off and set it atop his discarded clothes. Feeling the tepid sun on my tits was a new thing. The characters in my books may cavort on pristine beaches in the nude. But me? This was a whole new experience. A moment later, I tossed my shorts to the side and felt even more liberated.

Gabe, still running and skipping about, called, “You’re not doing it right, Syd. We’re supposed to be naked.”

He had yet to see me naked. To date, our nudity had only run one way. To let him see me as naked as I could see him, his soft penis bouncing about, was the one remaining line I hadn’t crossed on the lead up to sex. And there was no denying, there wasn’t even a pretense of not wanting him to fuck me. Still, I paused.

He finally stopped in front of me. The twinkle in his eyes and his mischievous grin would have been enough to know he was inhabiting my fantasy, but his three soft inches grew before my eyes into five erect inches. He puffed his chest out, as though proud of his body. I could scarcely blame him. His body aroused my own desire. “Come on, woman. How can you say you belong to me if you won’t do what I say?”

At that moment, I was lost in my desire to be wholly his. I slipped the panties off. Gabe’s bravado cracked again as his eyes stared at my body. For once in my life I felt like a woman whom men desired, instead of a too-skinny writing hack who lives vicariously through her characters. My hips were narrower than Abby’s, but still wider than the rest of my skinny frame. But Gabe just stared at me like a starving man discovering a four-course meal. When it’s the right man, or in my case, boy, women don’t mind being objectified.

When he found his voice, Gabe was reverential, almost like being in a church, “Wow.”

After a moment, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the tree line on the meadow’s far side. The service road was wide enough for the RV and although the thicket of trees was dense, it wasn’t particularly thick. About forty or fifty feet from the meadow was a dirt road running parallel with the river and trail. I threw my arm around Gabe’s shoulders, “When we get back to camp, we’re gonna top of the water tank and bring the RV over here.”

Gabe flashed a smile, slipping back into my little fantasy, “You should always do what your man tells you.”

I played along, “And what is your command, my love?”

His eyes widened. He was trying so hard to show me how he could fulfill my fantasy, yet he was still woefully inexperienced. “I thought that was obvious. We need to go back and move the RV over here.”

With that, he took me by the hand and we ran back to our clothes. He reached for his underwear and then paused as he looked toward the tree line near the creek, “I gotta pee.”

That glimmer returned, and he grinned at me again, “Can I watch you go, too?”

I chuckled at how quickly he broke character. I’d do anything for him. But I also wanted him to stay in charge, “Are you ordering me to pee in front of you?”

Like a lightbulb going off over his head, Gabe realized his mistake and nodded, “Of course. Woman, let me see you pee?”

Growing up in a poor part of Bakersfield, it’s not like you can get out into nature, so I’ve never peed in public or in the middle of the wilderness. But there wasn’t much to do except step away from the clothes and spread my feet apart. I reached out and pulled Gabe closer, “squat down, get a good look, my love.”

Gabe obediently knelt. I felt sexy and dirty all in one. His eyes were even with my slit. He could have reached out and rubbed his fingers against my clit without stretching. My shy bladder took a moment, but finally a stream of yellow spattered the ground beneath me. When it dribbled to a stop, I stayed in place, letting him see the thin lips of my outer labia. “What’d you think?”

He was tongue tied and only managed a “Wow, that’s cool,” for a response.

I thought about asking him to touch me. After all, I wanted to feel more than just his hands exploring my body. But I chickened out as he rose to his feet, “I gotta pee. Check it out.”

He turned, facing away from me, and grabbed his still rigid cock. After the better part of a minute of standing there, a dribble of pee appeared. It grew more powerful and soon a yellow stream flowed. When it tapered off, he grinned with embarrassment, “It’s hard to piss when stiff as a board.”

It was all I could to stop myself from leaning down, flicking the piss off his slit and sucking him again. Instead, we returned to our clothes and were soon dressed. Instead of hiking back to our camp the way we came in, we followed the service road. About a mile down the service road, we found the highway and followed it back to the campground.

***

It was pushing dinnertime by the time we leveled the RV and rolled out the slide-outs in our new, secluded campsite. I threw a frozen casserole in the oven and set the alarm. Gabe was outside, setting up our lounge chairs in the shade. Was he still in the mood to play our sexualized game? “The casserole is in the oven. What is your command now?”

A smile played across his face at the realization I was still interested in being bent to his will. He grabbed my hand, “While you were leveling the RV, I discovered something cool.”

We headed down the embankment, toward the creek. There, he pulled his shoes and socks off, “I saw it on the other side of the creek. Come on!”

I followed his lead and took my sneakers off. With his sneakers tied together around his neck, Gabe started across the creek. Even though the creek was only twenty feet wide, he yelped when he stepped into the creek, “Oh, fuck, it’s cold.”

I giggled as he practically danced in the mountain run-off. Worse for him, within three steps, the water hit the bottom hem of his shorts. He retreated, scowling at the water. I joked, “Looks like you’re going to get your wish to go around naked.”

He gave me a dirty look before finally laughing, “Yeah. I guess so.”

He pulled his shorts and underwear off and shoved them into his sneakers. He waded back into the creek before turning to me, “Come on, woman. You get used to the cold.”

I shook my head, marveling at how much I wanted him to dominate me sexually, that I was willing to let him dominate me completely. I pulled my shorts and panties off, and copied Gabe and put them into my sneakers, which were draped across my shoulder. I swore like a drunken sailor when my feet went into the water. No, it wasn’t cold. It was ice cold.

Taking my hand, Gabe set off for the other side. There must have been some kind of channel in the creek. That fourth step, taking us more than halfway across, we went from being thigh deep to sinking to just below our chests. From there, the creek became shallow as we climbed to the other side. Once on dry land, I glared at him, “We’ve gotta go back across that when we’re done, and that water’s fucking cold.”

I wasn’t kidding. Gabe’s penis seemed to shrink in on itself and his balls were nestled tight against his skin. At least my sports bra was still on, otherwise he’d have seen just how hard my nipples were from the icy water; and they hadn’t even gotten wet.

Gabe put his sneakers on and said, “Come on, it should be on the other side of these trees.”

Naked, Gabe pushed through a screen of trees. I followed behind, dodging branches and trying not to get scratched by the trees. He stopped after a couple of dozen paces, “Hurry up, Syd. This is cool.”

When I reached him, I looked over his shoulder at a small lake. Although to call it a lake was to be generous. It stretched out maybe a hundred feet in length and was about half as wide. Like our campsite, trees ringed the shoreline.

Gabe crinkled his nose, “It sort of smells like sulfur.”

It wasn’t strong, but it was coming from the water. There were mineral hot springs all across Colorado. Maybe this was one such place. I knelt by the water and dipped my hand in it. Unlike the creek, it was nearly hot. “Feel it, Gabe. Once again, you were right.”

He knelt beside me and stuck his hand in the water, “Ooh, that’s nice. We can go swimming here.”

I’m sure others have found the spot, but the place looked pristine, like something out of a Thomas Kincaid painting. “Do you want?”

The shoes came off and Gabe stepped into the water, “Oh, this is nice, Syd. You’ve gotta come in.”

As he waded further from the shoreline, I said, “Are you commanding me, my love?”

He chuckled. His eyebrows furrowed as though aware that playing the bad-boy billionaire was harder than it looked. “Um, yeah. Get naked and get in.”

I pulled my sports bra and sneakers off and stepped into the water. The further into the water I went, I realized it wasn’t quite as hot as I originally thought. Not too far from where we entered the water, a tributary from the icy creek flowed into the hot springs, and at the other end, it flowed out. That explained why the smell wasn’t stronger and why the water was clearer than most hot springs.

Gabe stood about ten paces from the shoreline, chest deep in the water, “Come on, Syd. It’s warmer here and feels nice. Maybe we can bathe here and save our water for other stuff.”

I surprised myself when I said, “If that’s what you wish, my love. You’re in charge.”

Of course, boondocking meant we only had two-hundred-fifty gallons of fresh water. If we didn’t shower and only used the water for cooking and flushing the toilet, we could easily stay here a couple of weeks before taking the RV to a dump station and refilling the fresh water tank. But it was more than that; even if his idea had been crap, I would have still agreed with Gabe. At least as long as we lived my fantasy.

I stopped when our faces were a hand’s length apart, and gave him a smile, “This is really fucking cool, Gabe. I’m glad you showed it to me.”

The smile that lit his face at my praise made me warm inside. Even more than my writing, nothing was more important to me than Gabe, and this little slice of Eden was perfect for us. I leaned in, “You brought me out here, my love. What now?”

He leaned in until our lips touched. His lips were warm and moist, and as the kiss lingered, he slid his arms around my waist and pulled our bodies together. My tits tingled when they touched Gabe’s chest. My stomach fluttered when his cock, hard as a rock, poked my pubic mound. When the kiss ended, I lay my head on his shoulder and enjoyed the intimacy of his hug.

The rustling of the wind through the treetops, the music of the birds in the forest, the gentle lapping of the water on the shoreline, these things were like a warm blanket, making the moment even more special. Gabe said, “Sometimes, I wonder if there’s a heaven. But then I see a place like this, and I can’t help thinking it has to be real.”

He let go and floated onto his back. His buoyancy was good enough that his erection bobbed in and out of the water as he did feathered his arms in the water, moving toward the middle of the pond. He stopped in the middle and let himself sink under the surface. Before I could worry about how long he was under, his auburn hair broke the surface. After spitting water out, he said, “It’s only another four or five feet here, Syd.” With that, he splashed a wavelet of water at me.

I pushed myself off the silty bottom and swam toward him. He splashed at me, moving away. “You’re it, Syd. I bet you can’t catch me!”

To punctuate it, he splashed me again. I yelped as the water splashed my face, and then I pursued him. I knew it wouldn’t last long before for this brief season of our lives passed; for now, we were almost the same size. But even though he was barely twelve, with the rangy muscles of preadolescence, he was stronger and faster than me, if only by a smidgen. But I had more endurance. I finally caught him in the deepest part of the pond when I closed with him and threw my arms around his neck from behind. We sank under the water as he wrestled against my grip. The water was clear enough to see hot water bubbling from fissures in the pond’s silty floor. I lost my focus, taken in by the natural beauty. Gabe took advantage and spun around, wrapping his arms around the back of my neck.

We held each other; our bodies tightly clasped together. His face was inches from mine when we simultaneously realized his penis, still erect, had slid between the lips of my labia. A shudder, almost like an orgasm, shook me as we let go of each other and swam to the surface. Gabe’s face had never been redder, and I can only imagine it matched my own. As he treaded water, he sputtered, “I-, I’m s-, sorry, Syd.”

In all my twenty-four years, I’ve never burned with desire like I did right then. I swam over to him, and put a finger over his lips, “Don’t apologize, Gabe. Who’s in charge here?”

His expression of worry and fear slowly ebbed away as he realized I hadn’t let go of my fantasy. It was as much a question as a statement, “Me?”

I gave him a quick kiss and then swam to where I could stand with my head out of the water. A half-dozen paces separated us as I replied, “That’s right.”

He swam over to me until he stood in front of me. He was so close, his erection brushed against my pubic mound. “When you say I’m in charge, do you mean I’m in charge of everything?”

The naïve innocence in his voice only made me what him to dominate me all the more. I nodded, “Yes, my love. Just like in my stories.”

His hands touched my hips as he inched forward, “Like with sex?”

As he pulled me in, I took hold of his erection enough to push it down so that he slid between my legs, “Yes.”

Gabe’s erection was trapped between my legs. The upper part splitting my outer labia, sending tendrils of pleasurable tickles through my body. I slid my arms around his neck as he locked his arms around my waist. The kiss was sweeter, lasted longer, and turned me on even more, as Gabe explored my mouth with his tongue. Although not our first French kiss, his tongue started out hesitantly as he pushed through my lips, but by the time the kiss ended, he had explored every part of my mouth with his tongue with growing confidence.

About that time, his stomach growled, and he giggled, “I guess I’m hungry.”

I let my hands fall away, as I thought about the casserole in the oven back in the RV. Gabe’s hands remained clasped around my waist. The smile hadn’t left his face as he pushed his body against mine. The upper part of his cock slid along my slit, sending a jolt of pleasure radiating from between my legs. “I’m hungry for you.”

My arms went around his neck again as his hips rocked back again, dragging his cock against my exposed labia. He groaned, “Oh, wow. This,” he pushed his hips forward, sending shivers along my spine, “feels really good.”

After Kyle, I’d contented myself with my sex toys. The way my emotions and my senses combined as he held me, rocking his hips, sliding his cock against my slit, were altogether new to me. Before, when I pleasured myself, sure it felt great, but until now I didn’t know what was missing. I felt more alive than ever as the top of Gabe’s erection dragged across my clitoral hood.

He rocked against me a couple of more times when I felt myself bump against my bliss. Again, he dragged his cock against my clit and a little dam burst within me, making me shudder in Gabe’s embrace. It was just a small orgasm. But the emotional connection amplified it tenfold.

Gabe, still sliding against me, grunted, pulled me forward, as he moaned, “Ah, fuck!”

His cock pulsed against my pussy lips as I envisioned his little drop of spunk diluting into the hot springs. It took a moment for us to stop shaking, and we held each other close. I know I needed to let him stay in charge. But in the heat of the moment, my lips sought his, and I kissed him and invaded his mouth with my tongue, until breathless, I pulled back, “You were fucking awesome, sweetie.”

A loopy grin spread across his face, “So were you.”

His stomach chose that moment to announce again its hunger. I chuckled, “You ready for dinner?”

Gabe found my hand and entwined his fingers with mine, “Yeah.”

When we reached the shore, we gathered our clothes and navigated our way through the trees toward the creek. There didn’t seem to be much reason to get dressed again until we reached the other side. With our shoe around our necks, we braved the water, hand in hand. Gabe yelped when the icy water reached above his thighs. I felt bad for him as it assaulted his cutest part. I barely avoided my own frozen hell when the water nearly reached my tits before we started up the other side.

Back on dry land I pulled my panties from my shoes and as I bent to put them on, with chattering teeth, Gabe said, “H-, hold on, Sid. I’m still in charge, right?”

I set my leg down, one leg threaded through my panties. Where was he going with this? “Of course.”

He flapped his arms, trying to warm up, “Cool. I think you’re really sexy when you’re naked. Let’s stay like this for a while.”

Even though the creek’s icy water wilted Gabe’s penis to well below his normal flaccid three inches, I could have sworn it twitched at his words. I stepped out of the panties again, “Okay, my love. You’re in charge.”

It felt strangely liberating going the last few yards to our RV. When I stepped into the meadow, I felt so exposed, but a quick look at the service road showed we were as alone as before. Even so, I hurried to the RV and practically raced up the stairs right as the timer-alarm in the kitchen went off. I couldn’t have planned the afternoon better if I’d tried.

***

Sitting across from Gabe at the table, I could almost imagine we weren’t naked. Almost. The table blocked out his most interesting parts. Being a woman certainly had its disadvantages; Gabe’s eyes lingered on my tits while we ate the casserole and microwaved veggies. He finished before me and leaned his elbows against the faux marble tabletop.

After a bite, I said, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He flushed, realizing I’d caught him staring at me. Then a smile creased his features, “Who’s in charge? You or me?”

The heat in my face traveled through a body that yearned for his domination. “You are, sweetie.”

His hand stretched across the table and caressed one of my nipples, making it grow hard, “And if I’m in charge, I can do this. Right?”

I shuddered when his fingers gently pinched my nipple, sending a surge of pleasure through me. I nodded, my voice only a whisper, “Yes.”

His other hand reached across and fondled my other breast, “And this?”

My voice shook, “Y-, yes. Anything.”

He slid out of the bench across from me. His erection was back. He came over to my side and said, “If I told you to suck me, would you do it?”

That heat ran all the way from my face to between my legs as I dipped my head, “Yeah. Can I?”

He turned and sat on the sofa, “We’ll see. For now, if you’re finished, come over her and sit beside me.”

Even though I still had a couple of bites left on my plate, I wasn’t hungry. Or rather, I wasn’t hungry for that. I hungered for what sat opposite me on the sofa. Ignoring my food, I came over and sat next to him, making sure my body touched his as I sat. “What now?”

Gabe’s hand returned to my tit, massaging and tweaking it for a moment. I’ve played with my tits plenty of times when I pleasured myself with one of my toys. But nothing felt better than his hand. Before long, he tired of the same motions and his fingers traced down my sternum, tickling my belly enough to pull laughter from me, before moving down. I prided myself on shaving down there and, as his fingers caressed my pubic mound, it was silky smooth. I spread my legs, giving him greater access, and a moment later, his index finger touched the hood over my clit.

“Ahh, that’s nice,” I purred.

Gabe rubbed it for a few seconds before the radial motion exposed my engorged clit. When he touched that, I bit my lower lip, “Oh, that’s it, baby.”

With a curious note in his voice, he asked, “Has anyone else touched you like this, Syd?”

As if I needed another reason to hate Kyle. Aside from clumsily sticking his average size cock in me, the college freshman hadn’t bothered discovering my body. “No, baby. Just me, and I don’t count.”

His finger stopped massaging my clit as it explored the valley of my inner labia. “You’re wet.”

I shuddered at his velvety touch, “You’re making me excited. I get wet when I’m excited like this.”

He rubbed his slickened finger along my inner folds. Then his finger found my vagina. I sighed, “Look what you found.”

His finger pressed in; I felt him inside me, at least to his first knuckle. “Is this what I think it is?”

I shuddered as another wave of pleasure washed over me, “Yeah. My pussy. You want to stick your cock inside it?”

The way his ears turned red only made me want him more. His nerves were a mess, “Y-, yeah.”

While I wanted him to take and own me, Gabe’s entire sexual experience was with me over the past few weeks. The last thing I wanted was for his first time to be as bad as mine. I reached over and caressed his inner thigh, moving closer to his cock with each heartbeat, “You’re in charge, my love. Would you like to go back to the bedroom?”

He nodded as my finger lightly traced a vein on his shaft. I leaned in and kissed him, “Lead the way, my love.”

He offered his hand, and I let him pull me off the couch and guide me back to the bedroom. I sat on the end of the bed and patted the space beside me. When he joined me, I put my arm around his shoulders and offered him my lips. He was nervous; his lips were dry, but he pressed them against mine as I slid my tongue into his mouth. With my free hand, I reached between his legs and brushed my fingers along his five delightful inches.

When the kiss ended, I scooted my way toward the headboard, “Come up here with me, sweetie.”

No sooner had my head hit the pillow than Gabe landed beside me. He turned onto his side, propping his head with his hand, “What now?”

Looking between us, his erection was so close to touching me, I couldn’t resist and shifted a couple of inches toward him, letting his boner poke my hip. I turned to meet him, pressing my body against his, making his erection lay flat between us, and kissed him. When we came up for breath, I moved my hand between us and took hold, “What we did in the hot springs is a great place to start.”

I pushed his cock between my legs. He had length enough for his glans to reach beyond my labia. I adjusted myself too, spreading my lips around the upper part of his erection, “Start pushing, Gabe. Just like before.”

He breathed a shallow giggle, “Except we were standing up, now we’re lying down.”

A dozen times, his hips rocked against my pubic bone. His cock was slick with my juices, but I wanted more. I wanted this to be more than just some sexy act between us. I would teach him to fuck me missionary style. But now wasn’t the time for that. I needed to hold him close. I slid my left leg around his upper leg. His dick slid against my labia as I opened myself a bit to him. “Feel that? I want to slide my other leg around your other side.”

Gabe moved, lifting his hip enough that I slid my other leg under him and wrapped them around his waist. Moving myself like this moved my body up just enough to feel his tip against my labia. I reached between us and took hold of him, “You ready, sweetie?”

He nodded as I lined him up. I shuddered from his glans resting against my opening. My voice shook, “Push, Gabe.”

His flared head invaded me, stretching me as he slid a few inches inside me. He gasped, “Holy fuck! This feels awesome.”

I squeezed my legs, taking him in until our pubic bones touched. My pussy was like a glove and Gabe fit perfectly. “Just wait. If you thought what you felt earlier was good, you ain’t felt nothing yet. Push your hips.”

We pushed against each other, and his five inches found every erogenous spot in my vagina. I felt my senses more than ever before. My hips trembled as he slid back, pulling his cock most of the way out. Some element of evolution kicked in and Gabe’s instincts kicked in as he pushed against me again, sending him deep into me, driving me to the very edge, “Fuck me, Gabe. Fuck me, sweetie. Make me yours!”

He pushed in again. A dam I never knew existed broke somewhere deep inside me and I shuddered as somewhere inside me bolts of pleasure radiated outward as I came. I had been wet before, but with that shuddering cum, the squishing noise filled the bedroom as he slid in and out of me.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” he cried, as his thrusts became more urgent. The cascading orgasm crashing over me was relentless as he thrust his hips forward. Then he shuddered, thrusting his hips forward at the same time I pushed down, taking everything he had as his cock spasmed inside me. How or from what well it came from, Gabe found something even deeper, more primordial than the cum currently rolling over me and I shook as a deeper cum slammed against me.

Unlike with Kyle, when I felt nothing when he came, a warmth radiated deep inside me where Gabe’s immature, watery semen hit my pussy walls. He called my name over and over as his orgasm wracked his body. Once he finished cumming, he tilted his head forward until our lips met, and we kissed as lovers.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 11

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 11
By
Caliboy1991

Something soft grazed my thigh as sleep fled from me. Gabe’s fingers traced across my legs, sliding around to my inner thigh. I wondered what he would do if allowed to continue, so I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the gentle touch.

His fingers sent tendrils of little jolts of pleasure through me, and he worked them up my leg until his touch grazed my panties. It was only the briefest of moments, but I loved what he was doing to me. His hand moved over my panties until his fingers caressed my lower abs. The thing about my panties, they were low cut and the top of my pubic mound was just above the waistband. I burned with desire to know his fingers were on at least part of my pubic mound. Gradually, his fingers played with my skin, working upward.

I wore a loose-fitting cami that didn’t quite cover my navel. When his fingers reached it, they slid under the hem, gradually pushing it up, inch by agonizingly slow inch. God alone knows how I managed to avoid flinching when a finger grazed one of my modest swells. Keeping my breathing regular as his fingers crept forward was the hardest thing to do. When he reached my nipple, he cupped his hand and covered my breast, gently squeezing. My erect nipple poked against his palm. After squeezing it for a bit, he retreated down my stomach, leaving my breasts exposed, my cami pushed over them. His fingers didn’t stop until he reached my panties’ thin lacy band. He caressed the skin above it. Oh, how I wanted to just pull my panties and let him gawp at my shaven pussy. To tell him that it was his to do with as he pleased.

More tentatively than before, Gabe slid a finger under the lacy band. It was just to his first knuckle. I was wet between my legs. If he went much further down, he’d wonder why the front of my panties were wet. Of course, by now he’d read enough of my bodice rippers to know women get wet between their legs, so maybe it wouldn’t be quite the surprise.

A second finger slid under the lacy elastic, then a third. He paused when he was halfway toward my slit. Was he trying to figure out where my pubic hair was? Good luck with that. Maybe it was a change in my breath, maybe he just lost his nerve, but he pulled his hand back and rested it on my belly as he snuggled against me.

That intimacy didn’t last. A few minutes later, he rolled out of bed and padded across the smooth tile to the toilet. When he opened the door, I was sitting up in bed, my cami pushed back into place. I smiled, “How’d you sleep?”

He seemed unaware of the lump in his underwear, “Okay. Thanks for letting me sleep in here. I tried to sleep on the sofa, but couldn’t.”

I moved across the bed and took his hand, “Oh, baby, I know that feeling. During the night, I woke up and felt you lying next to me and was really glad you did.”

A touch of crimson on his cheeks made me wonder if he felt guilty about touching me while thinking I was a sleep. I added, “I sleep so much better when you’re next to me. You wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you decided you wanted to stay in here with me full time.”

“L-like as your boyfriend?”

I shrugged, “If you’d like. But even if you want to be friends, or even if we’re only aunt and nephew. I just like sleeping next to you.”

He surprised me with a smile, “Me too.”

***

Gabe bounded up the stairs and handed me a bag with the golden arches’ logo on it. I waited for him to settle into the passenger seat by the door before asking, “Where to now?”

He looked out the windshield. The day was nearly cloudless; a great day to move on down the road. “I like the weather here. I was reading how some people who live in their RV stay in the mountains in the summer and then go to places like Florida and Texas in the winter. Could we do something like that?”

I was about as nomadic as it came. Since buying the old Winnebago at twenty, I never looked back, traveling wherever the muse took me. “We can, if you want.”

He smiled as he dug an Egg McMuffin from his bag, “Cool. Let’s find a place in the mountains to stay for a while. That’ll be fun.”

I pulled up a map on my phone and zoomed into the central part of the state, “You want a RV park similar to where we stayed last night?”

Gabe pursed his lips, “Dunno. I want you to teach me how to be a better writer. Plus, I really don’t want to be around lots of people.”

Colorado is the Mecca of boondocked camping. I’d only done it once before. The problem with boondocking is that you only have what the RV can carry. You’re dependent on your holding tanks for water and sewer, and your generator and diesel fuel for electricity. The benefit is that with few exceptions, you could park anywhere you want in a national park to camp. Sure, there are rules to follow, but it lets you stay at places you’d never get to stay normally.

“Your wish is my command, Gabe,” I said as I zoomed in. “What about the Rio Grande National Forest?”

He tore into a bite of his biscuit and nodded.

Durango was the largest town in the southwestern corner of the state. There were a handful of smaller towns and wide spots on the highway with pretensions of being a village between us and the national forest, so we stopped at the local Albertsons and picked up groceries enough for a couple of weeks. The nearest grocery store to our destination was in Creede.

A forty-five-foot diesel motorcoach has its moments of fun on the open road. My favorite is when I’m on the interstate with a long stretch of straight road ahead of me and no cars around. The road to the national forest was not like that at all. The first bit of “fun” was going over Wolf Creek Pass. The road over the pass twisted and turned. The best thing I could say was the road was two lanes in both directions, so when sporty little cars zipped past, I could stay in the right lane, my white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

Once we crested the top of the pass, my voice was strained, “Look at the sign, Gabe. We’re crossing the continental divide.”

The entire time we’d been climbing, the boy ignored the manuscript in his lap and turned and gawked at the mountains all around. He grabbed my phone from the console between us and snapped a picture before we passed the sign. “Wow, Syd, look it, we’re at ten-thousand-eight-hundred-and-fifty-seven feet.”

The wonder on Gabe’s face made the experience worth it. As we started down the eastern side of the pass, I downshifted into first and kept my foot on the brake. More than an hour after we started up the steep slope on the western side of the pass, we were finally off the eastern slope. The rest of the drive, through plenty more twists and turns, was child’s play compared to Wolf Creek Pass.

We rolled into a small, unimproved camp ground about thirty minutes after passing through Creede. There was an RV spot for a camp guide, but it was empty. There were a dozen or so pull-through sites for RVs like ours and signs posted that no dumping was allowed, although each site came with its own spigot. At least we wouldn’t have to use our water tank.

While I hit the button to roll out the slides, Gabe connected the water, and we were officially home; at least for the next two weeks. I’d read that the National Forestry Service only allows campers to stay in one spot for two weeks. The seclusion was exactly what we needed. Gabe would have the time to figure things out about us and I could figure out how if Give the Devil His Due was to be my next series. I took a nap on the sofa while Gabe explored the nearby area.

After a dinner of hotdogs, I sat on the sofa with the windows open, the clear mountain air cooled off fast once the sun was hidden by the mountains to our west. I split my attention between a TV show and emails with my virtual assistant about current marketing campaigns. Gabe lay next to me on the sofa. He propped his legs on the armrest and lay his head against my hip. Every couple of minutes, he flipped a page, reading my manuscript. There weren’t many pages left, and he was too preoccupied with the story to realize he kept reaching down to adjust his shorts. Seeing the bulge in his shorts was confirmation that at least some parts of the story were doing what they were supposed to. I wanted middle-aged women wearing down the batteries on their vibrators after reading my story.

I had closed the windows and lowered the blinds by the time Gabe closed the manuscript and said, “That was, um, fucking hot.”

The profanity made him blush. Unlike Abby, I thought Gabe sounded cute when he swore. I grinned and muted the TV, “So, should I self-publish it?”

The blush spread to his ears and neck, “Mom would have loved it, I think.”

The admission caught me off guard. Sure, I’d give Abby copies of all my books, and knew they were one of her few guilty pleasures. “You knew she had my books?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She kept them hidden in her room. I found them hidden in her room last Christmas when I was hunting for my presents.”

I smirked, “Did you find the presents?”

He gave me an embarrassed grin and shook his head. “And no, I was too scared to read your books. Mom would have beat my ass if she’d caught me.”

I reached down and rubbed his chest, “Now you’re catching up on lost time.”

He grinned and nodded. “I’m not reading it because of the sexy scenes. I’m trying to see how you write.”

I chuckled at the transparent lie, “Um-hmm. Right. I bet every woman has heard her man use that excuse.” I lowered my voice, trying to mimic a man, “No, honey, I wasn’t reading the magazine with the nude pics for the naked women, I was reading it for the articles.”

I’m not sure if the reference went over his head. Gabe just shrugged, “Whatever. I think you should publish this book. If my mom would’ve liked it, I bet lots of other women would too.”

My curiosity piqued, I asked, “What did you think of Lucien? Too much the billionaire bad boy?”

He shook his head, “No. I mean, he does some pretty bad stuff to Holly and the other girls. Dunno, it’s weird, when I read the story from Lucien’s point of view, he didn’t seem like a villain. But when you switched over to Holly, she’s trying to figure out who she is and what she wants. I understand her and I think other people will to.”

He was only twelve, and he understood the story better than my agent. “What’d you think of the end?”

“You ended it on a cliff-hanger. When I finished it, all I wanted to do was pick up the next book. Have you written anything else?”

I sighed as my hand kept rubbing his chest, “Not yet. It was supposed to be my first traditionally published work.”

“What’s the difference?”

I explained, “What I’ve done is self-publishing. I write the book, find an editor to fix my typos, keep an eye out for continuity, and clean it up. I also have to hire an artist to design the book and someone else to manage my marketing campaign. A traditional book publisher does everything but the writing. Well, they used to. These days, authors are expected to do more and more marketing themselves, even if they have a traditional contract.”

Gabe cocked an eyebrow in surprise, “Why would you want a book contract? You’re really successful already.”

“I’m glad you think so. But Amazon is my only outlet. A traditional publishing contract would let me get my books into bookstores, even onto other online bookstores, like Barns and Nobles. Also, it’s an ego thing. Getting a traditional book contract is a tremendous deal. It means the publishing gatekeepers think you’re good enough to support.”

Gabe sat up and leaned against me, resting his head on my shoulder, “But Amazon is huge, right?”

I dipped my head in agreement, “That’s true. In the US, Amazon is almost ninety percent of the e-book market. And if my books are traditionally published, I’d probably not get them enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.”

That was enough confirmation. The manuscript still required at least one final review before sending it off to my editor, but fuck it, I was sold. If a twelve-year-old boy could finish it and enjoy it, what little doubt I still had evaporated. I snaked an arm around him and pulled Gabe closer, “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll get started outlining the rest of the series tomorrow. What about you? You ready to start writing?”

He nestled himself closer and nodded, “Yeah. I want to finish my story about the boy who kills the dragon and rescues the princess.”

I gave him some pointers, sharing with him some of the things I learned along my journey as a writer. Eventually I yawned. A glance at my watch showed it wasn’t even ten in the evening yet. But the stress of the morning’s drive caught up with me; I could barely keep my eyes open. I leaned over to Gabe and brushed my lips against his cheek, “I’m off to bed. The offer still stands, sweetie. You don’t have to sleep in here if you don’t want.”

He flushed at my kiss. But he didn’t respond with one of his own. Neither did he pull away. I wished I understood what Gabe was going through. Frankly, I was confused, especially after waking up to his exploring fingers that morning. If that’s what he was comfortable with, then I’d have to accept it. That thought was on my mind as I stripped down to my panties. Only the uncertainty of how Gabe would think if he came in and I was in just my panties, kept me from sleeping that way. I found an old cotton cami in the bottom of my underwear drawer. I hadn’t worn it since cutting away the bottom half a few years ago. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror and decided it was just about right. The jagged edges at the bottom ended an inch or two below where my breasts started.

I settled into bed, hoping Gabe wouldn’t leave me alone, but I fell asleep, dreaming of him taking me by force.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 10

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 10
By
Caliboy1991

“How’s it feel being twelve,” I asked as Gabe and I walked from the Durango LaPlata County airfield to the parking lot where the RV was parked.

“About the same as yesterday when I was eleven,” Gabe said, carrying our travel bag over his shoulder.

I twirled the RV key fob on my finger, “There are plenty of restaurants in Durango. Let’s celebrate.”

We reached the RV, and the door swung open with the press of a button on the fob. Gabe stopped on the first step, “I guess we can go out to eat. But, Syd, I don’t feel like celebrating. Not yet.”

I watched him climb the other steps and followed. I had the Cummins diesel running a moment later, cooling the RV’s cockpit. “There’s an old timey train that runs from here to Silverton. Maybe when you’re ready, we can come back and celebrate by riding the train. It’s supposed to be a lot of fun.”

Gabe gave me a wan smile, “That’d be fun. Maybe soon.”

Because it was his birthday, we picked up to-go from McDonalds and drove to a nearby RV park for the night. Despite his melancholy, Gabe helped connect the water and sewer lines while I put the slide-outs out. Thank God for microwaves, otherwise we’d have eaten cold Micky Ds.

I settled into the bench across from Gabe, who was drowning a french fry in ketchup. “How’s it taste?”

He held the mangled strip of fried potato up, “Dunno. I’ll tell you in a sec.”

With that, he plopped it in his mouth. I unwrapped my burger and took a bite. Somewhere in between bites, I said, “I can’t really put myself in your shoes, Gabe, to know how you’re feeling. But I’m here for you when you want to talk.”

He shrugged, “You know the score. I’ll get over it.”

Gabe fell silent for a bit; Even though I was still learning some of his mannerisms, I could see he was working through a lot of things. “Syd, are there any other relatives of you and mom?”

I never knew my dad. He was splitsville before I was born. When I was growing up, Abby didn’t talk about him much, and Mom, not at all. Mom was an only child. I shook my head, “Not that I know of. It’s just you and me.”

He crumped up his fry box and shoved it in the bag, “I knew a kid in school. His parents died. They put him in foster care. How do you know that won’t happen to me?”

I hadn’t given that much thought. I had power-of-attorney over him, and Abby named me guardian in her will. I took the bag of trash and slid from the bench seat and threw our trash into a trash bag under the sink. “They had a chance when we were in Bakersfield. I’d think that someone would have to report you to social services.”

“What about school?”

I sat on the sofa, and patted the spot next to me, “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve done a bit of research about online schools. There are some private schools into which we could enroll you in the fall; everything is done online. Your school will get the request for records and they’ll figure out your where you’re supposed to be, send the records to the new school, and you will start the seventh grade in a couple of months from the comfort of the RV.”

He collapsed on the seat next to me, “You promise you won’t abandon me?”

The vehemence in his voice caught me by surprise, “Fuck yeah. You’re more than just my nephew, Gabe. You’re my best friend in the whole fucking world. I’ll fight like hell to keep you with me.”

Then I smirked and gave him a snide smile, “Plus, they’d have to find us and we can go anywhere we want. Our house is on wheels.”

It felt good to hear him laugh. He offered a grin, “So, you weren’t just being silly last week, about being friends?”

I snaked an arm around his shoulders, “No way. If you haven’t figured out, as aunts go, I’m fucked up. If you need a lot of parenting, we’re both going to be in deep shit. But I can be the best friend in the world. Probably be a huge fucking bad influence on you. Let you read all my smutty stories, be the woman you need me to be for you, let you fool around with me, that kind of friend and so much more.”

He rested his head against my shoulder, “No matter what, you’ll let me stay until I finish high school?”

I squeezed his shoulders into a hug, “Absolutely. But even then, this will always be home for you. Got it?”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, “Yeah. So, you’re really gonna make me go to school in the fall?”

“Yep. You need to learn more about writing, math, history, all that stuff.”

He gave me a skeptical eye, “Really? Like I’m going to have to know algebra to be a writer?”

I laughed, “You’d be surprised by the things I’ve learned that I’ve worked into my stories, Gabe.”

He gave a mock huff, “Fine. That means we’ve got two months for you to teach me more writing and for me to finish my book. What about you? You decide what you’re going to write next?”

That was something else weighing on me. The only thing I had ready to go was Give the Devil His Due. But if Bess was right, releasing it under my pen name could blow up. Given what Gabe and I had already shared, there wasn’t any point in not telling him about it, “I have a book that makes most of my books feel like sweet romance for high schoolers. It’s called Give the Devil His Due.”

Gabe perked up at the name, “Cool name. What’s it about?”

I smirked, “Sex, power, and more sex.”

He returned the smirk, “I thought you said it was different.”

Jokingly, I smacked his arm, “Smart ass. It’s about a billionaire-“

Gabe poked me with his elbow, “You said it was going to be different? I’m waiting.”

I gave a theatrical sigh, “Fine, I’ll let you read it. But don’t let me find you in the bathroom rubbing one out to it.”

His eyes grew wide. Three weeks ago, he didn’t even know how to masturbate. Now, at least, he understood. “I wouldn’t do…”

His voice faded as his cheeks turned red. He had retreated since the morning we learned of Abby’s death. I longed to pick things up where we left off. But so far, he’d shown no interest, and I was beginning to wonder if he regretted our brief time together. I pushed that aside and leaned over and kissed his cheek before getting to my feet, “I’ll fetch it. You can read it if you want. I need to catch up on some work.”

***

Amazon pays me commissions every month. About half the money comes from e-book sales. The other half comes from page-reads from Kindle Unlimited. Thrown in the mix are some paperback sales. But those never amounted to more than a couple of hundred copies a month. The money hits my business account around the end of the month. I pay an accountant to do my books, pay my estimated taxes, and the like. But that doesn’t mean I get to ignore it. While Gabe sat quietly on the couch, flipping the pages of the manuscript every few minutes, I reviewed this month’s sales report. Even though we were at the tail-end of June, the data was from April sales.

At first glance, the numbers were impressive. Between e-books and Kindle Unlimited, my fifty-four books, at that time, sold just under eleven thousand copies. And that translated to around twenty-six thousand dollars. Not bad for a twenty-four-year-old, you’d think.

I found March’s report and opened the spreadsheet. Fifty-three books on the sold report that month. And a bit more than twelve thousand books. That was my problem. Over the past year, even though I’ve released ten books over the past twelve months, my sales were going south.

Too much competition diluted the market. There were content mills churning out a book a week, paying ghost writers to churn out fifty-, sixty-thousand-word romance novels. They were formulaic, write-by-the-numbers fluff pieces. And my target audience voraciously read them. But more titles were chasing the same number of readers and with Gabe living with me, I wasn’t sure I could maintain my publishing schedule of ten books a year.

Thinking of the boy, I glanced over at him. He lay on the couch with the manuscript propped on his chest, his head inclined, reading. Absentmindedly, he reached down and adjusted himself. The board shorts were ugly things, and despite the way they bunched up at his crotch, I could see by the tent in his shorts, he enjoyed the story. The sight of the distended material was a pleasurable distraction. I didn’t know if he’d ever want to pick up where things left off the previous week. But at least I could enjoy a furtive glance now and then at his budding sexuality.

Hoping he hadn’t seen me, I cut my eyes away. I closed down the sales reports and opened up the most recent account statement from my accountant. The first page was a standard balance sheet. On one side, it showed the debits. On the other, the credits. Despite the fall-off in sales, the credits outweighed the debits by a wide margin. The biggest expenses were marketing campaigns. Just below that line item was another sizable expense. My virtual assistant ran my marketing campaigns. And she didn’t come cheap, at twenty-five dollars an hour. The RV was even on there as an expense. I owned the motorcoach outright, paying cash for it over a year ago, when I traded up from a used Winnebago. Even so, there are plenty of expenses. The diesel engine was a gas guzzler, netting me six or seven miles to the gallon. It had to be serviced regularly to keep it in tip-top shape and those service calls weren’t cheap.

Before long, the shadows were getting longer. The clock in the laptop’s task bar showed most of the day was gone. I closed the laptop. Gabe turned another page as I said, “You haven’t said much.”

His cheeks flushed, “It’s really great, Syd. I don’t know why your agent said it wasn’t.”

I felt my own face grow warm as I thought about the many sexually explicit scenes in the book, “She didn’t say it wasn’t good, just that it was too controversial.”

An embarrassed smile creased Gabe’s face, “Oh. Um, yeah. Th-, they were good. Why not publish it yourself?”

I bit my lower lip, thinking of all the bad things that could happen if I were to ignore Bess. “You can tell a difference between this one and the others?”

The same flush–Gabe nodded, “Yeah, the, um, sex is hotter. And the girls are younger. The main girl the billionaire likes, he kidnaps her and, um, talks her into doing stuff and she’s only a few years older than me.”

“Yeah,” I said, “My agent thinks it’s too much like a story that just broke a few weeks ago about a guy named Jeffrey Epstein. And, yeah, I was kind of thinking about him when I created this billionaire, just figured he was above the law with too many powerful friends to protect him.”

Gabe shrugged, “Whatever. I think it’s fun. You’re always going on about books need to be in a series to be successful. I’m not finished yet, but it seems like the billionaire is going to win by the end of the book.”

My mind went through dozen different scenarios for a series. “No spoilers, young man.”

Gabe stuck his tongue at me. I grinned and flipped him off, making him laugh. “You’re a mean girlfr–” his voice caught in his throat before he looked down at the pages, and continued, “friend. I’ll read to the end.”

My stomach grumbled. I didn’t feel like fixing anything and the RV park was close enough to town, I figured we could get pizza delivered. When he heard me on the phone, Gabe’s voice reverberated through the RV, “No veggies! We’re not herbivores.”

When the pizza guy, who happened to be a pizza gal, showed up, Gabe finally closed the manuscript and grabbed some paper plates from the kitchen cabinets. As we ate, he said, “I really like Holly.”

Holly is the focal point of Give the Devil His Due. She’s the kind of high school girl I wished I’d been when I was fifteen or sixteen. Gabe added, “She reminds me of you.”

I shook my head as I wiped a stray string of cheese from my mouth, “How’s that?”

The crimson returned, and he focused on devouring the rest of his first slice. When he reached for a second, I swatted his hand, “Come on, Gabe. How does she remind you of me?”

He glanced down at the pizza box, “Well, um, she’s really pretty and outgoing, like you.”

I wasn’t sure I saw the connection, but it wasn’t lost on me how Gabe saw me. I wondered if that was all, “Thanks, Gabe. I think. Anything else about her?”

Gabe’s ears and neck grew red when he became really embarrassed; like now. “Um, her boobs, they reminded me of yours.”

My eyebrows were arched, my eyes round, “Really?”

His voice was almost too low. “Y-, yeah. You described her boobs as perky and, um, petite.”

Damned if he wasn’t right. Without realizing I’d done it, Holly was me physically. “You think I’m pretty?”

More of that gorgeous flush. He wouldn’t look at me as he nodded, “Duh.”

“Boys,” I muttered.

The day had been long. And even though it wasn’t my normal bedtime, I said, “I’m going to bed. You going to be okay?”

He nodded, returning his gaze to me, “Yeah, Syd. I’m going to read your book for a bit longer.”

I gave him a big grin, “Enjoy. But no beating off in the bathroom to my smut. Got it?”

He giggled; the crimson reached his collarbone, “Got it.”

The past few nights had been rough on us. Gabe’s mood about his mom had been worse when it had been just the two of us in the hotel room. I said, “Don’t feel like you have to sleep up here, sweetie. There’s plenty of room in my bed.”

He grabbed the manuscript from next to where he sat on the couch, and fiddled with the pages for a moment, “If I do, um, you won’t want me to pretend to be one of the billionaires in your stories, will you?”

Funny how he conceptualized our sex play. I desired him. Even while we’d been eating pizza, at least on a subconscious level, some part of me still wanted him to dominate me, to take me and make me his. But his desires mattered as much as mine, maybe even more; after all, he was the minor and I, the adult, who should know better. “No, sweetie. If you’re feeling anything like me, you might not like sleeping alone right now. About the billionaire stuff, we don’t have to do that again if you don’t want.”

He cracked open the manuscript as his lips curled at the corners, “It’s not like that. It’s just Mom’s death still has me out of sorts. I gotta lot to work out, ‘kay?”

Never have I wanted to hug and hold him more than that moment. But I used what little self-control I possessed and turned and retired to the bedroom.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 9

The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 9
By
Caliboy1991

I pulled the key from the envelope. Looking back on that last fateful day, I spoke with her, she knew what was coming. Knew, or at least suspected Gabe and I would want to go into the house. With his hands stuck deep in the pockets of his jeans, he slouched beside me. It wasn’t that he was silent. He was dealing with some deep anger at Abby for hiding her illness and depriving him of the right to be with her at the end.

I was torn by it. I remember how worn and, at the end, resentful Abby had become by the time our mom died. I didn’t have it in me to condemn her decision to not put Gabe through that hell. If anything, the past couple of weeks had been some of the best in the boy’s life. And while I had serious doubts Abby would approve of everything to which I introduced Gabe, he needed to grow up and spread his wings. And even as I slid the key into the lock, I remained convinced Abby had chosen me, even though she knew Gabe’s life would spin away from my sister’s sheltered world.

I pushed the door open and found the light-switch on the wall. The living room was empty. The walls were bare, the furniture gone. Even the vinyl floorboards were spotless. Except for one corner of the room. Over there were a dozen boxes of various sizes and shapes.

Gabe pushed past me and stared about him, “Where is everything? It’s all gone, Syd!”

I was as taken aback at him as I crossed the threshold. As Gabe darted toward the hall to his bedroom, he muttered, “We’ve been fucking robbed!”

I moved past the boxes and passed through the small dining room. The plain table with wobbly chairs was gone. Even the kitchen was pristine. Thanks to the poor decisions our mom made when we were growing up, there weren’t very many family heirlooms or favorite porcelain plates to pass down. Abby hadn’t been able to add much to that very meager collection from a teacher’s aide’s salary. She had decorated her home from Walmart and Sears, with the occasional item from Goodwill thrown in to the mix.

Twenty-nine years on this earth and the sum total of everything she had was in a dozen boxes. When I returned to the living room, I noticed a manilla folder. Someone had written in cursive, “Gabriel Nelson” across the middle. Gabe burst into the living room, tears scalding his cheeks, “It’s all gone. Everything.”

He spun and ran through the dining room and into the kitchen, “They took everything! Even her angels!”

When I reached the kitchen, Gabe’s eyes were round, wild with distraught. I spread my arms, and he ran to me, nearly barreling me over as fresh tears fell shamelessly onto the shoulder of my blouse. I patted him on the back as, through broken sobs, he continued, “Mom had the most beautiful collection of angels. She kept them on the mantle in the living room. They’re gone too!”

I glanced through the doors. I could see the mantle against the outside wall. Seventy or eighty years ago, when the house was first built, it had included a fireplace. But somewhere between then and now, someone had bricked it up until the only reminder was the painted-over mantle. I hadn’t thought about them at the time, but I recalled a small collection of angels from when I picked Gabe up. They were carved angels you might find at Hobby Lobby or other craft stores.

I ran my hand through his hair as he cried. When he finally stopped, he confessed, “Me and Grandma went to her hobby store and picked them out for Mom each Christmas.”

I had no idea. No wonder Gabe was so distraught. I pulled him back into the living room and pointed to the envelope on the top box, “There’s a letter on top of the boxes. It’s addressed to you.”

He glanced at his name before wiping tears from his face, “Can you read it, Syd?”

I opened the envelope. A lone sheet of paper was its only occupant. “You want me to read it aloud?”

He nodded, resting his head on my shoulder. I pulled it out and read, “Dear Gabriel, your mom asked a few of us from school to help her clean up the house after she went into hospice care. She has been so supportive of other teachers over the years we couldn’t possibly have refused. We know you’ll be living with your aunt, so we boxed up everything from your room that we could and have set it in the front room. One of the boxes, labeled ‘Gabriel’s keepsakes,’ are things your mom wanted to give to you. If there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know.”

There was a lump in my throat that I had to clear before I could add, “There are several names of her fellow teachers. Even phone numbers.”

He released his hold and found the marked box and sat on the hardwood floor and opened it. Wrapped in bits of newspaper were the angels. When he got up, the tears were still there, but a smile played at his lips, “I thought I had lost them, Syd. But they’re still here.”

Gabe experienced something profound as he gently put the angel back in the box and closed it. While he was occupied with the box, the doorbell rang and a moment later the door cracked open, “Anyone here?” a voice called out, “I’m the landlord.”

A plump man stood in the doorway. Gabe and I were taller than him. He peered into the room, which was lit only by light filtering through the windows. “Ms. Nelson?”

Gabe was on his feet, interposing himself between me and Mr. Roly-Poly. For an instant, I thought of him as my bad-boy billionaire, and I alone was his conquest. The moment passed, and I rested my hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Yes?”

He eyed Gabe for a moment before nodding, “Sorry about your momma. I ain’t had a tenant stay longer than her. She was one of the good ones.”

Gabe relaxed a beat. “Thanks.”

The landlord scanned the room, “She was good at her word, when she told me about her illness. This is cleaner than the day I leased it to her.”

I marveled at how my older sister, facing her own mortality, wrapped everything up. Even now, I don’t know if I could do it half as well. I slid my arm down Gabe’s shoulder until I rested it on his upper arm, “We’re here for Abby’s funeral. Maybe take a few days to confirm everything is in order. We’ll get the boxes out before we leave.”

“Take your time. The house is still hers through the end of the month.” Roly-Poly reached for the door and paused. After a long moment, he reached into his back pocket and added, “I was going to inspect the house before deciding what to do about the deposit. But Abby was a woman of her word.”

He crossed the room and handed an envelope to Gabe, “When your mom first rented from me, she paid a deposit. She kept up her end of the lease better than most. It’s only right I do the same. Here’s your momma’s deposit back.”

With that, he turned and left.

Gabe opened the envelope. There was a small stack of bills with Ben Franklin’s face on them. I lived in a cashless world. Everything I earned was electronically deposited into my account. Every purchase I made was just as electronic. In Abby’s world, with small rental houses and postage stamp sized yards, cash was king.

I squeezed Gabe’s arm, “You ready to go? We should get checked into the hotel before the vigil. We can come back later and get the rest of your things.”

Gabe bent over and grabbed the box of angels, “This is all I really want. I don’t want the rest; it’s just stuff I’ve outgrown.”

***

Even though I’ve always resented my mom her choices, I couldn’t find it within me to resent seeing Abby laid to rest beside her. The writer in me found closure in it. And in a moment of reflection, maybe my problem with my mom was mostly about growing up poor than anything else. That first novel was like bottling lightning, and I never looked back.

Despite the working poverty Abby lived, one thing she had over Mom was a stable of good friends. People who know Abby kept coming up to us, bombarding Gabe and me, and telling us how much Abby meant to them. They were mostly teachers and teacher assistants at the school where she worked.

The tent over Abby’s grave was big enough to hold a couple of dozen chairs. While we had reserved seats at the front, some of my sister’s coworkers couldn’t find space under the temporary enclosure and had to stand under the warm early summer sun.

While we waited for Father Sandoval to prepare the area between the seating and the casket, a woman of indeterminant years approached. She gave us a weak smile, as though anything other than a somber expression was against the rules, “Ms. Nelson?”

I nodded toward her as Gabe fidgeted next to me. “Yes?”

She offered me her hand, “We’re all very sorry about Abby, and I felt called to come over and tell you how much we appreciated your sister. She was one-in-a-million.”

I wondered how many people get to hear this kind of praise during their lives. Or is it the salve that people who yet remain salve their consciousnesses for saying too little before it’s too late. I shook her hand, “My sister had a heart of gold, Ms.…?”

“Fuentes. I’m the PE teacher. Your sister liked bragging about her kid sister, the writer.”

I shrugged. “It pays the bills.”

She gave me an appraising look, “She said you did better than that. When I asked what you wrote, she was evasive.”

That was Abby. Proud of my success, but more than just a little embarrassed I made my living from soft-core smut for middle-aged women, like Mrs. Fuentes. “Lots of women enjoy a good romance novel.”

Her eyes perked up, despite the setting, “Really? I like sweet romances.” She listed off a few authors who played it safe with sweet romance.

I don’t know why, but I felt like she was being nosy. For fuck’s sake, we were there to bury my sister. I gave her a plastic grin, perfect for the setting, “Oh, then you’ve probably read some of catalog.” I gave her my pen name, “Maybe you read my breakout novel, Can’t Buy My Love?”

Mrs. Fuentes’ nostrils flared and recognition flickered in her eyes. She licked her lips, “Ah, I don’t think I’ve heard the name.”

By this time, Gabe wasn’t fidgeting in his seat; he leaned against me, “You’re Ms. Fuentes, right?”

She nodded.

He said, “Mom thought you’d enjoy my aunt’s books.”

Mrs. Fuentes worked her jaw, but no words came out. Finally, she managed a squeak, “My condolences for your loss.”

She beat a hasty retreat. Gabe leaned in and whispered, “I bet she has every one of your books, Syd.”

I bit back a chuckle. Without hypocrites like Mrs. Fuentes, writers like me would have much smaller audiences; still the encounter galled me. Fortunately, that’s when Father Sandoval stepped up to a lectern provided by the cemetery.

He offered a sad smile to me and Gabe, before sweeping a gaze across the crowded tent. He cleared his throat and said, “Our sister Abby Nelson has gone to her rest in the peace of Christ. May the Lord now welcome her to the table of God’s children in heaven. With faith and hope in eternal life, let us assist her with our prayers. Let us pray to the Lord also for ourselves. May we who mourn be reunited one day with our sister, Abby; together may we meet Christ Jesus when He who is our life appears in glory.”

I fought Mom tooth and nail when I was a teen and refused to go to Confirmation, and hadn’t been to a confessional since I was Gabe’s age. Still, I couldn’t deny there’s a pageantry to the liturgy. Gabe leaned his head against my shoulder. A single tear streaked his cheek.

Father Sandoval added, “Amen.”

A smattering of Amens greeted him from the crowd of mourners. The priest opened a Bible and read, “We read in sacred Scripture, from the book of Saint Matthew, chapter twenty-five, verse thirty-four. Come, you whom my Father has blessed, says the Lord; inherit the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world.”

From there, he took a flask containing holy water and sprinkled it over Abby’s casket. Another prayer followed, in which he prayed for Abby’s soul. I wondered if it was a waste of time. It seemed to me if there was a heaven, Abby would have been one of the first to get in.

The liturgy continued, where he explained the ashes to ashes and dust to dust. God or not, it dawned on me sitting there, staring at my sister’s casket, the whole thing wasn’t for her. She was either with the angels or she was only a memory. Were I to strip away the veneer of religion away from the priest’s words, this was all about making it easier for those of us still here to move on. After all, life is for the living.

For the first time in more than a dozen years, I bowed my head and tuned the priest out. If Abby was still around, I needed her to know I would always take care of Gabe. In the stillness of my mind, I said, “Hey Sis, I don’t know if you’re still around, or if I’m just talking to myself. But if you are up there, I just want you to know how much I miss you. If you’ve been watching from up there, you’re probably ready to kick my ass, but I want you to know I love Gabe and promise to take care of him. You knew when you asked me to watch him I’d be a shitty aunt, but you still asked me to do it. So, I figure you knew I’d do my best to be his friend.”

I sighed and looked up. Father Sandoval was still reciting liturgy. Gabe leaned forward, his lips pursed, listening to the priest. I wasn’t very good at this prayer thing, but I needed to unburden myself to my sister, I looked down at the grass, “And as you’re my witness, I’m doing the best I know how. I vow I’ll keep him by my side until he’s eighteen. And I hope for a lot longer. I hope you can forgive me for the things I’ve already done to him, and for the things I’m still hoping for. Just know, I’m going to do my best for him, teach him everything I know, and help him become a man we’d both be proud of.”

The priest said, “Amen,” and again there was a smattering of amens in response.

He blessed the casket, then turned and made the sign of the cross over me and Gabe, “Merciful Lord, you know the anguish of the sorrowful, you are attentive to the prayers of the humble. Hear your people who cry out to you in their need, and strengthen their hope in your lasting goodness; We ask this through Christ our Lord.”

Again, that smattering of Catholics among the mourners responded, “Amen.”

They were the first to get up. Some filed by the casket, but most started back toward their cars. It was surreal. My mom never took me to a church funeral. Of the two I’d attended in high school and college, one was secular and the other was a Protestant service. I wanted to grab Gabe by the hand and make toward our rental car, but that seemed in poor taste, so I stayed in the seat, accepting condolences and making small talk with Abby’s friends. It was a shame Mrs. Fuentes beat a hasty retreat at the end of the service. I so wanted to suggest a reading list of other romance authors.

Finally, Father Sandoval came over, “You guys staying in town long?”

Gabe’s hand found mine as we stood. He spoke, “Mom took care of everything. The house, her stuff. Everything. Not that we had much.”

The priest said, “By the time Abby knew she was sick, the cancer was pretty far along. But she had enough time to make sure she didn’t leave behind a mess to clean up. I can tell you for a fact, most people either don’t get that kind of chance, or figure someone else will unravel the estate after they’re gone. At least your mom made sure that you have your aunt.”

Gabe shrugged, “I love my aunt. Some of me is glad Mom asked my aunt to come get me. But the rest of me is still upset she didn’t let me know she was dying. This sucks as a goodbye.”

The priest put a few items from the lectern into a satchel, “It’s okay to be angry at your mom, Gabe. But don’t let it turn to bitterness.”

He took his leave, walking toward the cemetery’s exit. I slid an arm around Gabe and we stared at the casket for a few minutes before eventually leaving.

***

The Holiday Inn Express was your typical hotel; two queen beds, a couple of chairs, and a table. When we returned after a painfully quiet meal at the Olive Garden, Gabe disappeared into the bathroom for a while. When he came out, he dressed like he’d been that first night he stayed with me, in just his underwear. He didn’t say a word, he just lay down and rolled onto his side, facing the wall.

“You okay, sweetie?”

He didn’t say anything. I let it alone for the time being. I tried to find something on TV, but after a bit, nothing struck my fancy. I turned it off and tried again. I crossed over and sat on the edge of Gabe’s bed, “Sweetie, you okay?”

His voice was muffled, “Leave me alone.”

When you love someone, you hate to see them hurt. Love can sometimes cloud our judgement. I reached out and touched Gabe’s shoulder. He shrugged it away, “I said, go away.”

I retreated to the other bed, “I’m sorry.”

He must have been trying to hide it until that moment. But now I heard his sobs as his shoulders shook. It took every ounce of my will to not go back to him. Frustrated because I didn’t know what to do, I went to the bathroom, where I tried to relax by taking a long bath.

As I lathered my legs and took my razor to them, I thought back to the last night, less than a week ago, when Gabe and I had fooled around in my bed. Since being back in Bakersfield, we had kept our distance from each other, at least sexually. He wore a shell of impenetrable grief. Although I had touched him, it had only been the way his mom might have. He hadn’t responded even to those awkward maternal touches.

On a scale of one to ten, where one is a preteen girl with no hair and ten is the wife of sasquatch, I’m probably a three or so. If I were to let my hair grow out on my legs, it would be pretty sparse. Even at its thickest, around my ankles, there’s not a lot. So, shaving my legs was a quick job. I’d been shaving my pubes since I found out several of the girls in high school shaved theirs. Once I realized how nice it made it when I masturbated, I never stopped shaving between my legs. After more than a week since my last shave, the stubble was thick between my labia and pubic mound. Still, with practiced ease, I returned it to its preferred state.

It had been a week since I last touched myself down there and part of me, the part who was hurt by Gabe pushing me away, wanted to ravage my clit, work myself up into a powerful cum. I discarded the idea when I realized the water was cooling; I’d been in the bathroom long enough. I dried off and wrapped a towel around my torso and went back into the other room. Gabe lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were wet.

I grabbed a clean pair of panties from my travel bag and turned away from Gabe. I let the towel fall and then slid the underwear up my legs until I lightly slapped the frilly band against my lower abs. I felt his eyes on me and once I slid into my cami, I turned around. “Yes?”

Gabe said, “I-, I’m sorry about earlier. That was a dick thing to do.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but I crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed, “No, I shouldn’t have pushed. You take all the time you need, sweetie.”

He scooted over, giving me a bit more room, “No. I’m really pissed off at Mom. She had no right to hide how sick she was. But she treated you the same way she treated me. It’s stupid to take it out on you. The only thing I’m glad of was that you came and picked me up. I know that’s crazy. Pissed at her because she made me go away. Happy it was with you because you… well, you love me even more than Mom.”

I place my hand on his knee, “I wouldn’t say more than your mom. She loved you like only a mother can. I love you, well, like a girlfriend, only more.”

He wiped at his cheeks. “I-, I like that. Me too.”

He yawned, and I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand between the beds. It was almost ten. And the day had been one of the worst in both of our lives. I stood and tugged at the covers, “Come on, Gabe, go on and get under the covers.”

Once under the covers, he said, “Um, Syd, is it okay if you hold me tonight, even if I don’t feel like being touched?”

“You want me to hold you, but not touch you?”

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of Gabe’s lips. “You know what I mean. On my, um, dick.”

I had to repress a smile. As I slid between the sheet and the cover, I hoped his lack of interest would not be long term. Even so, it felt nice once I shifted my body over to his back and snuggled against him. Just before Abby’s passing, I wondered if he might have pushed past my height. And now, playing the big spoon to his small, I noticed he was now taller than me, if just by an inch or so.

He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his chest, “Mm, that’s better.”

Before long, his soft sonorous snores told me he was asleep. For me, I lay awake wondering what held. It was a long time before I finally drifted off.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

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