In the Land of Nicholas

By moc.loa@dlefrednaV

Published on Aug 4, 2003

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IN THE LAND OF NICHOLAS A story by Stefan Vanderfeld Vanderfeld@aol.com

From behind he whispered into my ear. I could play only if I followed his rules.

They were simple.

First, you must do as I say. Second, I must fit into this new world Third, I could never tell anyone else what we did in this world."

I smiled. And agreed. And stepped into his world...

Maria Stevens from across the street had shouted to me as I sped down the street on my racing bike. "Josh, could you come over here for a minute?"

I pulled on my hand breaks and slowed. I made a wide turn in the street and coursed back to the woman calling my name. The leaves crunched under my bike tires as passed over the Autumn deposits.

Maria Stevens was about 30 years old - and simply beautiful. She had lush golden hair that fell down around her shoulders. Her eyes twinkled. I had spent many an evening wondering about her body that might be lying lonely across the street.

I pulled up to the curb near the edge of her driveway. She walked quickly, over to my bike. As she approached, I noticed that that her eyes were red and puffy. She held a crunched up kleenex in her hand, and patted her left cheek gently.

"Josh, I... can you... I need your help." She took her hand and laid it on mine as I gripped the handlebar.

I leaned in and warmly stared at her.

"Yes, what can I do?"

Tears streamed down her eyes. "I don't know how to help him. He has locked himself in the room ... and he won't come out. I don't know what to do."

I scrunched up my face in puzzlement. He? Who was He? I thought Maria had lived alone. It had been nearly six months since I had moved into the neighborhood. I had moved to Austin as part of a new job and had carefully chosen this quiet little street. The first day I moved in, Maria had brought over chocolate chip cookies to welcome me. My days as a computer programmer - and her days as a nurse didn't match well. And I had little chance to really have much more conversation with her than the occasional "hello" as we fetched mail and newspapers.

My fantasies were different. I imagined myself delivering to her a large plate of chocolate chip cookies - and never leaving until they were done. The next day.

"Maria, I will do anything you need me to do. It's OK. What is going on?" I topped her hand with my other - and gentle rubbed it.

"It's Nicholas. He won't come out. He has locked himself in the room - and he won't come out." She erupted in fresh tears.

"Maria, who is Nicholas?"

"Oh. Yeah. You don't know. Nicholas is my nephew from Laguna. He came out to spend a month with me here in Austin during his Summer vacation."

The speed of her voice picked up. "I know that he can't surf here, and Texas is so much different than California. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do with him. But my sister doesn't know either. And so I said I would take care of him."

I hadn't noticed anyone new at the Maria's home, but that didn't mean much. My long days at the computer company hadn't given me much time lately to notice anything.

As she quickly talked, I could feel the warmth of her hand. My body was hot and warm from the ride, and I could feel my sweat run down my arm and disappear between her hand and mine. She gripped it firmly as she told of her peril.

"So, what is wrong Maria?"

"Last night, I told Nicholas that we were going to a movie. At about 7:30 - I knocked on his door and asked him if he was ready. And in a voice I hardly recognized, he said 'Go away.' I was shocked. I knocked again, but he said nothing. I tried to turn the knob of the door, but it was locked. I asked Nicholas again if he was alright, and he just said 'go away.'"

Maria continued to describe her story. By now, I was really sweating. I had managed to get in about 20 miles of riding this evening, and my body was slowly coming down from the high. I could feel the sweat running down my back and into the narrow crevis of my butt. If could feel how warm my body was.

"I left him in his room last night and he never came out. This morning, I again knocked on his door. He came to the door, opened it a crack - and told me to go away - that he didn't want to talk to me. I asked if he was Ok, and he screamed at me."

"I hate Austin. I hate Texas. Stupid cowboys. Stupid big hair women. This place sucks."

With a profounce look of desperation, Maria looked straight at me. "Josh, you have to go to talk to him. You are a young guy. You just moved here. You know what it is like. Maybe you can talk to him. Maybe he will listen to you."

"Sure," I said. Whatever I can do.

"Thank you Josh. You don't know how much this means to me. I just don't know what to do. Something is wrong, and I don't know what to do. Can you come now?"

My body was wet and dripping. Long stands of coal dark hair served as guidance for drips of sweat on my forehead. My clothes clung to me. But Maria clung closer - and I knew I had to help her now.

I nodded my head.

She turned and walked up her driveway, turning her head to see if I was following. I walked my bike directly behind her, and followed her to the door.

I leaned my bike up against the steps to her house, and followed her. We walked in. I had imagined this so many times - me and my big plate of chocolate chip cookies following her. But this time, it was different. I was hot, but not from anticipation.

The house smelled of lemon. Maria led me through a door that descended down into the basement of her home. As we walked down the stairs, I was conscious of my gaze to her body. Her hips moved with artistic grace.

The stairs ended into a great room that had been fashioned into a library. Rows of books circled around two rich leather chairs. I saw another quiet side to Maria I had not imagined. At the same time, it dawned on me that this might not exactly be the dream of a young visitor from California. Kids from California probably wanted Sega or Nintendo. They would want bikes and games and fun. This didn't look like California boy fun.

At the side of the room was a door. Maria led me over to the door, and as she nodded with her head, she said "He is in there."

I didn't know what to do next. As I stood there, it dawned on me that I didn't know what young boys needed. Now that I was standing here, what should I do?

I had graduated from Boston College three years ago. Growing up in Sommerville, just outside of Boston, my days were spent growing up on the streets of Boston. Harvard Square was my playground. But I often did it alone or with friends. I had no brothers or sisters - and so I spent a lot of time exploring as a kid.

As I got older, I seemed to get lucky. I shot up to six feet, and my muscles started to develop. My blonde hair took on a slightly brown tint in the winter, but in the summer, I looked out of place among the Jewish and Italian boys of Boston. This was quite a novelty among the girls. I spent a lot of time biking around Boston - realizing that it was a much faster way of getting around the streets of Bean Town. My body stayed trim, but my legs and buttox became strong and well defined.

In high school, I realized this was another interesting asset among the gay population of the city. Boston is a very open town to sexual differences. And while riding my bike I can't tell you how many times I would get whistles from both girls and guys while in my blue biking shorts.

I was open to adventure. To this day, I like trying new things. My good looks gave me a great choice of women with which to learn the rules of body and pleasure. But I also decided I had to be open to all possibilities - and several times, upon the invitation of unsuspecting friends, I walked the path of exploring another guys body. Of course, some nice pot or alcohol helped convince me. But still, I knew that my Aquarian life was filled with more choices and possibilities that society was willing to give me.

After graduating from BC, I worked for a small software firm on the Loop just outside of Boston. Going to work in the real world after school was less fun than I had imagined. But it was great to finally get out of school, and do something real for a change. Six months ago, a buddy called from Austin and said he was working at Dell. He told me that they were hiring 200 people every week - and that I should come and visit. I was ready for a change. And before I knew it, I had found myself ripped away from my East Coast home to a very strange land they called Texas.

But the door I stood in front of could be in Augusta or Albuquerque or Austin. It was door, And behind that door was a young boy who needed my help.

Maria smiled at me, and tuned. She slowly walked up the stairs as she looked back to see what I would do next.

THE LAND OF NICHOLAS

I tentatively raised my hand, and with my knuckles, wrapped on the door. I hear nothing, and again repeated my actions.

"Go Away!"

I paused. This voice. It sounded, well, deeper than I imagined. I realized that I didn't actually know how old Nicholas was. Maria had to be in her late 20s or early 30s. Surely a newphew could be no older than 10 or 12. But this voice didn't exactly match. I didn't know what to do.

"Nicholas?"

There was a pause, and then, from close behind the door, a voice said "Who is that?" The voice was deep but longing.

"Nicholas, my name is Josh. I life across the street. Your Aunt asked if I would come over and see if you were alright."

There was silence from behind the door.

"Look, I know this has been probably hard for you. California is such a different place from Texas. People are so different here. Life is so different here. So I know that this place is probably a little hard to get used to. But there are some really interesting things to do. Like biking. There are trails all over the city. And we have three lakes that are just awesome. The main thing is to get out and see the town."

I heard breathing behind the door. I knew he was standing right there. I could feel his energy through the painted wood. The door handle clicked and there was movement.

Slowly, the door inched open. On the other side, there was darkness. As it inched open, and light spilled into the crack from the light behind me, I saw a set of eyes. Green eyes. With long dark lashes. I was expecting to look down at the young boy, but the eyes were at my level. Staring. Looking back from the darkness.

"Really?" he said.

I looked back and nodded.

"I've seen you. You are the dude from across the street. You ride bike a lot." He looked at my eyes, and then his eyes moved. They traced my eyes, and moved to my mouth, and then traveled lower. He followed my chest and moved in a sweeping glaze down to my groin.

The biking clothes clung wet to my body.

He held his glaze between my legs, and then abruptly glazed up to my eyes, as if he realized that I noticed what he was doing.

Nicholas opened the door wider. This was no boy.

In front of me was a young man. He stood also at least 6 foot tall. His chest was strong and well developed. This kid had spent a lot of time either working out or swimming or surfing. Whatever he did, he pecs were round and firm. His abs were tight.

I heard myself gasp as I looked down - and realized that instead of jeans or shorts or even boxers - there was nothing. He was naked. And in between his legs was a semi-erect dick.

Oh man. He was standing there naked.

I know I looked stunned. I couldn't exactly comprehend what was happening - and for that matter, what I was supposed to say next.

His blonde hair was shoulder length. His face didn't match his body. What may have looked strong and developed from the shoulders down wasn't reflected in his angelic face. His face told a different story. His face shared emotions of fear and sadness and a sense of being lost.

But his body was long. And tight. And naked.

"Can you come in?" he asked as he stared at me.

"Um, sure. I guess. If that is what you want." I studdered and probably didn't make much sense.

I walked a foot into the doorway, passing Nicholas, and stopped.

Nicholas closed the door. The room went to nearly dark.

As I stood facing the room, I could sense the breathing behind me. As my eyes adjusted to the room, I began to see room take definition. What was once a normal bedroom, had taken on new shape and definition.

Sheets and been stripped from the bed, and formed huge tents and awning across the ceiling. Corners were attached on one end to the ceiling, and then tumbled down half way to a wall and stopped. It was as if I had walked into the room decorated with large billowy parachutes.

My mind couldn't quite grasp what I was seeing. Blankets traveled up the wall, extended to the ceiling, and the was tied off to a bed post. There was disorder - and yet, somehow, I recognized this.

A body directly behind me leaned in. The entire figure of Nicholas made contact with mine as he pushed into be from behind. I could feel his needs pressing against the back of my legs. I could feel his chest push up against my shoulder blades. And I could feel the pressure of his strong cock push up against my ass. He leaned in strong, and placed his mouth at the back of my neck, and whispered.

"If you are going to help me, you have to stay. And if you stay, you have to follow my rules. Otherwise, you leave."

He pushed his pelvis harder against my ass.

"Do you want to help me?"

It has been nearly four months since another body, female or male, had been so close to mine. Instinctively, my dick ached. Without even knowing what I was doing. I felt my butt push back into his body.

I was hypnotized with lust. And excitement. And adventure. Those feelings I felt just moments ago for Maria were somehow changing themselves into lust for the adroit pressure I was feeling from behind.

In a haze that was lost in the flowing sheets of the room, I heard my lips say "Yes, I want to help."

"Ok," he said. "You can stay if you follow my rules. They are simple.".

"First, you must do as I say. Second, I must fit into this new world Third, I could never tell anyone else what we did in this world."

I smiled. And agreed. And stepped into his world.

Nicholas wrapped his arms around me from behind. "I am going to take your sweaty biking clothes off. Let me."

Moving like a stretching white cat, he slid down by body and around me legs. He untied my shoes and lifted my legs as I stepped out of them. He peeled away my socks like pieces of an orange.

Still working from behind, he tugged at my shirt, and lifted it over my head. He wisked the shirt into the air, and it landed like a caught bird in one of the sheeted umbrellas.

Nicholas buried his nose inbetween my shoulder blades and breathed deeply as he traveled down by back. This erotic undressing left me speechless. Somewhere deep in my brains, warning signs were being avoided as I thought for a fleeting moment where I was and what I was doing. I was being seduced, and I couldn't stop it.

Nicholas was bent over and was face level with the small of my back. He gripped both sides of my sweat soaked running shorts, and slowly pulled down. The sweat had plastered them tight to my hips, and so they peeled like a piece of wet plastic.

As he pulled, not yet apparent to Nicholas, my dick sprang forward. In the slow undressing tease, it had gotten hard as a rock. The blonde soft hair above my cock still contained beads of sweat from my running. The end of my dick glistened, both from sweat and the liquid that ozzed, longing of release.

Nicholas pulled the shorts to the end of my body, and then with his hands, traveled up the front side of my body. He pulled me backwards, and I could feel the heat of his face nestle into my butt. His hands traveled up, and reached to the inside of my thighs.

From behind, I could feel the wetness of his tounge, as he darted between two halves. His hands traveled up. I let out an almost scream as his hands reached up and cupped my balls.

I started to turn around, and he grabbed tight to my balls. "No. Stay just as you are."

I froze. My knees were weak. I don't think I was even breathing.

Nicholas let go of my balls, and grabbed my dick. I moaned as his warm hand held tight to something that almost hurt on my body. He slowly stood up. Nicolas mopped up the wetness from my body and dick, and brought his hand backwards to his own body. I could feel his hand moving between us, as he applied his moisture to his own cock.

The young man moved his mouth near my ear.

"I have so missed my friends back in Laguna." He licked my ear.

"I have needed to feel the body of a man for weeks since I have been here. When I first saw you ride by on your bike, I knew that I wanted you. Needed to have you. You are like the guys on the beach: strong thighs and a tight ass. So often, we would camp out on the beach. We would lay in our tents as the ocean rolled. And we would let our bodies do what we wanted them to do. And now, I want you to let your body do what I need to do."

He pulled the lobe of my ear into his mouth. His tounge flicked.

When I heard the word "tent" - I then realized where I had come. Tents. The room was like a big tent. I remembered from growing up how we used to turn our rooms into a large tent. We would pretend like we were camping. And spend hours talking with friends about life. It was like I was back there.

But this wasn't pretend.

Nicholas has used the sweat and liquids of my body to grease up his own cock. He slide the length of his dick in between my ass checks, and slowly moved up and down. From my body, my butt was already sweat and hot. And as he started to slide up and down, he went easily and slowly. I arches my back, and threw my head back, resting on his shoulder. He licked the nape of my neck.

As he bent down and then pushed up, sliding -- sliding his hand reached around and resumed his grasp at my dick. Like a gentle feather, he stroked up and down, in unison with the dick that was moving up and down from behind.

I could feel the head of Nicholas's dick slide against the opening of my ass. At first, he slid right be it, but with each stroke, he stopped, and lingered a little. Now, he had stopped, and I could feel the hard pressure of his dick as my opening.

I breathed in deeply, as I realized where he was - and what he wanted to do. Hell - what I wanted him to do.

When I felt his dick move inside me, I instinctively pushed back. He pushed in a little, and then just held, as I got used to the full feeling. We were both wet and slick, and so it didn't need much coaxing. He pulled back, and slowly started with little pushes and jabs. All the while, I was lost in what his hand was doing in front of me.

His left hand reached around, and joining the other hand, reached down and cupped my balls. I moaned as he started to slowly roll them in his hand. Just at that moment, I felt the strong push behind me, and he sunk deep into my ass. My mouth opened in a silent scream...

Nicholas started to move quickly. Like a black widow that had caught his prey, I stood paralyzed. The spider had his hand wrapped around me, his stinger in my, and his lips on me. I was being silent consumed, and I was paralyzed with lust.

His body was a symphony in motion as he danced around me and in me. He took long strongs in and out. And as he pushed in, I gasped as he touched areas of pleasure deep in my channel.

He started moving with a dizzy motion. As I looked down at the hands wrapped around my throbbing dick, I knew it wouldn't be long before I would be screaming. From behind, the silent little boy started a heaving sound that coincided with gasps of air. He pumped in and out of me as if this was his last fuck.

My breathe also slowed to a series of gasps. I had to reach around and grab him to hold on, as I felt my dick swell and explode. My knees nearly buckled as I came forcefully in front of me.

Almost in unison, Nicholas reached up with his hands and sunk his fists into my chest. Like a cat, he gripped at me and pulled me tightly into him. His dick sunk to the lowest depths ever as he screamed. Inside, I could feel his firey rod pulsing. And soon, I could feel the warm liquid that spewed from his California boy blonde dick.

The world danced and pulsed. Inside the room of dark tents and odd shapes, we both gasped as our bodies convulsed.

After our breathes started to slow, Nicholas slid down my body, pulling his dick out of me with him. His hands traveled with him, as he rubbed my splattered cum down my thight.

He slid lower, and as he did so, I heard is breathe turn from a panting to a gasping wimpering sound. This large boy-man, started to cry. He curled at the base of our feet and started to cry.

I kneeled down and brought him close to my body.

I buried my head into his long blonde hair, and held him as he cried.

THE END

... but perhaps to be continued.

Stefan Vanderfeld is a writer living in Austin, Texas. If you enjoyed this story, have comments, or want to be included in his mail list for past and future stories, please write to him at Vanderfeld@aol.com

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