Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Subject: The Box Series part seven Part seven After dinner at what was fast becoming our regular eating place Kris and I wandered home in the darkening sky.It was obviously going to rain, but it wasn’t far to the place we called home. When I left the Navy, some fifteen years ago now, I had returned to the town where I was born and got an administrative job at a local hospital. In addition I wrote articles on the Navy for a defence periodical so I could keep in touch with my past. It was strange, Paul and I had grown up together, meeting for the first time at four and a half years old at the local school. We were best pals at school, from the early days right through the Grammar School and ‘A levels’. Through puberty together we had experimented with various diversions together, as all adolescents do ( or should do!) but never had pentrative sex with each other. That was ‘too queer’ for us, attitudes were different in those days and it was very easy to get the wrong label attached in an all boys school. How times have changed ( and for the best – too many hang ups about sexual matters back in the day). Paul and I were in the Sea Cadets – a sort of Naval Boy Scout – which was organised in such a way that teen boys would be indoctrinated into joining the services after school. Don’t get me wrong – I was proud to serve in the Navy and despite losing friends in 1982 and 1991, I never questioned my choice of career. Paul was there too, we enrolled together, went through Naval College and for a time served on the same ship, but we knew that couldn’t last for ever. Paul’s speciality was navigation and all the technology that came and went over the years.I was into the weaponry and a different technology. Paul had met his wife in Plymouth, she was a Wren (Female Royal Navy) whilst I met my wife back in my home town. We both had tragedy, my wife died in childbirth and Paul’s wife died in a terrible car crash the same month. We consoled each other for a while, Paul was land based after the crash and left the Navy a year later and got a job for a defence company. I lasted another year in the Navy then came back to my roots and a boring office job. Somehow over the years we had lost touch with each other, until we met again today, Paul had returned to our home town for his father’s funeral then moved back into what had been the family home. I hadn’t known, it was only a short distance from where I lived. But in the ten years or so, we hadn’t crossed paths. Back home with Kris we were sat in the same armchair watching the drivel on TV. It was one of the fake ‘reality’ talent shows with the essential jury of has been ‘celebrities’ and a pointless viewer vote (that had no effect on the winners as it had all been scripted beforehand). The ‘singers’ were mostly terrible, the sort you find in karaoke bars and outside nightclubs late at night, but always there was one fair to good singer that was obviously going to win that week. Though predictable, it was mildly entertaining, and we cuddled and snuggled throughout the show. Kris went to bed as normal around 9pm. When I went to bahçelievler escort tuck him in, he asked,’ Will we see Uncle Paul (Uncle?) and Noel again soon?’ I replied, ‘Yes we will, Paul is an old friend of mine and I was really happy to see him and from what I saw, you and Noel got on very well too’. ‘Yes, Daddy, he’s my brother, we were made together.’ Kris added, very matter of factly. I thought about that for a moment, but accepted it readily, though the circumstances had been strange, I had no doubt in accepting Kris’ analysis. I gave Kris a kiss and a snuggle and within seconds he was asleep. I stood for a moment or two in the doorway of the bedroom and agreed, Kris was indeed an angel, in perfect human form ( in my eyes anyway, my perfect boy) . No doubt , across town, Paul was thinking the same. That night, peaceful sleep, Kris didn’t come into my room until 7-30 by which time I was almost awake (almost), he came in and climbed into my bed for a morning cuddle. I slid my hand down the back of his pajama trousers and fondled his super soft ass cheeks. Due entirely to she softness of my boy, I was fast becoming a butt fetishist! Another hour passed by in a half sleep, half trance state of mind before raging bladders sent us both hurrying to the bathroom. There we had a father and son pissing competition, trying to deflect each other’s streams, then into the showers to freshen up. The joint shower was fast beoming a daily ritual with the washing of each other a loving tribute to each other. We were taking care of each other in a very intimate way and the cuddle drying was the best part! Breakfast too was fast becoming predictable, Kris as always manages to devour an enormous bowl of cereal then follows it up with a full cooked breakfast then afterwards has cookies with a cup of tea. It was great to see my boy eating so well. I wanted everything to be just right for him. We sat for a while after breakfast discussing what to do that day, Kris was keen to get outside so we decided on a walk in the hills. The countryside around my home town was beautiful, at any time of year and popular with walkers and hikers, so on this sunny but chilly day out we should go. I wanted to make the best of the holiday time with Kris, being well aware that in a few days he would be at school and I would be on my own. After the events of the week, I was not sure that I could handle being alone. But of course there was Paul and he would be in the same position, I made a note to call Paul and arrange some time with him to while away the day whilst the boys were at school. I was trying to equate the fact that I had my boy for a few days, but he was already recognised by other people , he was enrolled in school. It was patently obvious that time and date had no reality in the parallel world from which he came. Normality was suspended, as if time itself had been turned back and all official records altered to accomodate the reality of Kris being with me. Paul’s life, running almost in synch with mine, had been manipulated by an unseen entity bakırköy escort or organisation to give us both our boys. I felt that I should try and find out more about the DHL boxes and LaBiAnChi deliveries, was there some establishment in existance somehwre in Europe that had connections with the afterlife? My former employment in the hospital gave me a first option. There was a laboratory that did DNA research. Without doubting that Kris was mine, and mine to keep, perhaps there would be some indication in our DNA that could give clues. Maybe Paul would like to take that option. Kris had already prepared for our trek, booted and suited and wearing an orange hooded coat. I couldn’t resist playing a joke and pulled tight the strings in his hood, so that only his eyes were visible. I laughed because he looked like Kenny from South Park. Kris made some comment, but his words were muffled and that just set me laughing again. Kris told me after he had extracted his face from the hood, ‘I’m not Kenny, I’m here to stay!’ My reply was immediate and obvious, ‘Good, I’m very glad to hear it!’ Another quick hug and I got myself kitted out for our walk in the hills. Driving into the countryside with Kris at my side, he was almost bubbling with excitement. It was obvious that he loved being outdoors with me and he had a bright twinkle in his eyes. I too have always loved the outdoors and to share it now with my own son was almost too joyful to bear. We had bonded so close that I could not consider being alone again. We left the car in the car park at the foot of the trail that led up onto ‘Ram’s Tor’, a popular walking and hiking spot. With a lightweight back pack with drinks and a snack within, Kris led the way along the stone lined path. Popularity of this spot led to erosion and eventually stone slabs recycled from old town centres were laid, this had the effect of removing the muddiest part of the trail, but I was certain that neither of use were going to be as clean as we were at the start. I had walked this route many times and other trails like it since my teenage years. Being in the Navy had made me yearn for land when I was at sea and for sea when I was on land. Being outside was my great love and it was apparent that Kris loved it too. I was happy in the thought hat we would share many such advertures together. There were plenty of other people on the trail, of all ages, total strangers for the most part, but part of a family of outdoor lovers. We had been walking for a couple of hours and had ascended maybe two thirds of the tor. There was a small plateau where the park authorities had provided some picnic benches which were well utilised by the time we got there. We found a space and from my backpack (which Kris had insisted in carrying for some of the way) I reveled a flask of hot tea and some cakes for a mid walk treat. Kris was delighted to discover a chocolate eclair and it soon disappeared into his soft pink lips, leaving a trace of chocolate on his lips and a dollop of cream on his nose. It looked balgat escort cute and I wanted it, so pulled him towards me, licked the cleam from his nose and kissed the chocolate away. ‘Thank you, Daddy!’ said Kris and gave me another taste with another squidgy kiss. The middle aged lady across the table let aout an ‘Aww…’ sound, and Kris rewarded her with the sweetest boy smile you could dream of. Tea and cakes devoured, we set off for the summit.Hand in hand for most of the way and with Kris towing me up over the ‘difficult’ parts of the route. I passed a comment to Kris, ‘It’s like climbing to heaven!’ to which Kris replied, ‘Heaven isn’t up there, it’s all around us!’ He wasn’t wrong, the beautiful countryside, my beautiful boy and the love and warmth in my heart. It was indeed like heaven upon earth. On the final climb to the top of the tor we each grabbed a rock. There is a tradition to bring a rock and add it to the cairn on the summit, which we duly did. We sat on a large rock and surveyed the surrounding vista. Kris moved in for a cuddle. I removed my phone from underneath weveral layers of clothing and took a picture of Kris striking a dramatic pose by the cairn. Then Kris took one of me feigning exhaustion. To complete the album, another climber took a photo of the two of us on top of the world. The return walk ( or should I say stumble, as our legs couldn’t quickly adapt to going downhill after three hours of uphill) was completed in half the time of the ascent. Across from where the car was parked was a very inviting old inn, so we entered to have a meal. Whilst waiting for the food to be served, Kris challenged me to a game of pool. I soon learned that he was way too good at the game. To prevent a whitewash I took to prodding him up the ass ( accidentally, I swear!) just as he was taking the shot. It did nothing to alter the score and I was well beaten! The meal was delicious country fare, and was quickly devoured, to be followed by a rather large desert with whipped cream, the real whipped cream and not the stuff from a can! We waddled out into the fresh air, that had become very cold whilst we had been indoors. The trip back home descended into depravity as we became embroiled in a farting competition. Kris countered my efforts gas for gas and the car windows were rapidly opened! There are parents that would berate their children for ‘letting one go’, but I’m of the opinion that it is something we all do and with an element of schoolboy ( and Naval) humour, it’s funny anyway. Back home the answerphone was blinking. It was a message from Paul ( with interjections from Noel) suggesting we meet up the next day. I called Paul back ( with interjections for Kris and Noel) and arranged for them to come round to my house in the early afternoon and we could all take a dip in my hot tub in the back garden. Kris was literally fizzing with excitement with the get together and it took a long Daddy son cuddle on his bed before he settled off to sleep. More soon. ……to be continued. Feedback to the story is great to get, we both share an email account for this purpose at ail Please stay safe and healthy and donate to Nifty. Don’t forget to show your love and support to Nifty by donating to them. They’re a fine lot who’s helped authors to reach a wider audience, so it would be great if this time around we give them a helping hand. More info can be found at fty/donate.html
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32