Craig likes boys but doesn't think he'll ever get to know one well enough to become friends. Even when new neighbors move in and their son Jacob turns out to be a friendly 10yo, it takes a last-minute change of plans to push Craig to get to know him better.
Keywords: Mb nosex
Author’s Note: I didn’t set out to write a story with no sex in it, but once I decided the setting it seemed much more realistic. So this standalone story might end up with sequels. I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it. This is the first story I’ve written, and I’d love to hear from readers whether or not they liked it. Feel free to send me email at [email protected]. Best to you and all of your young friends.
New neighbors: Temporary babysitter for Jacob
There was a time in my life once where I loved and adored boys from afar, always watching special movies featuring boys on Netflix, stealing glances in the grocery store, at the park, and in malls, but just never knew how to approach one in real life and say hello. Which was infuriating because occasionally I’d run into a boy in public and attempt small talk. Just say hello, make a nice comment about a toy he had or something he was saying, and it never, ever failed that the boy responded positively, joked back, or otherwise seemed interested. And for that brief shining moment I felt like I made a connection, and then it was gone. They got their food from the restaurant counter, or the elevator door opened and it was their floor or mine, and I never saw them again. But that smile, that bright flash in their eyes, the pride of holding the attention of an adult was intoxicating. Still, it never lasted and I figured it never would.
The new neighbors moved in one day and once all the dust had settled, a boy appeared. His name was Jacob, he was 9 and blond and stunning. He could have been a statue or a toothpaste model, and he was a complete surprise. The first time I went outside to get my mail and saw him running around in his front yard it was like my heart fell out of my chest and skidded and clattered off the porch and all the way down the walk to the mailbox. I froze at the door and watched him, his white t-shirt hugging his chest and tummy and his jeans revealing nothing. By the time I remembered to breathe and get the mail, I was already in love. I pulled the mail out of the box, staring at him. He noticed me, waved and shouted “hi!” and then went back to running, completely lost in his imagination and oblivious to my reaction. Later that night his parents walked over alone and rang the doorbell and introduced themselves. That was when I learned his name.
The next month was torture. Jacob was often running around the yard playing on weekends or after school. He’d be crawling through empty moving boxes he’d saved and piled up and drawn on, or he’d be hiding inside one box, coming up to look for enemies or attackers or whatever he was imagining his biggest threat was. Every time he saw me his face would break out in a smile and he’d wave, and immediately go back to playing. So I knew he was friendly but I could never think of a way to approach him or a reason to call him over. And as fall set in, it got colder, and the form-revealing t-shirts gave way to baggier long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, and jackets.
A promotion at work earned me a raise, and I ended up buying an electric R/C car to play with. This turned out to be my big break. I came home on a Saturday and set up the charging station in my garage, and by the time the charger showed the battery was ready to go, it was getting dark. But I wanted to make sure everything worked so that I could return anything defective first thing in the morning. I plugged the battery’s leads into the car, replaced the chassis and slid the cotter pins into place, and turned the power switch to ON. Then I put it down on the floor of the garage, turned on the remote, extended the antenna, and pushed forward on the joystick. With a loud rasping sound followed by an electric whir, the car jumped into motion and rushed down the driveway. The steering control worked and it spun around at the end--a little too fast, actually--and whirred back into the garage.
By the way Jacob came running, you’d think I had blown a boy whistle.
He ran to the low brick wall between our yards and bent forward, leaning on his hands to try and get a better view. “What was that?” he called.
“Hi, Jacob. I’m just trying out a new toy,” I said. “It’s a remote controlled car.”
Before I could blink, he was over the wall and in my garage, bubbling over with questions, wanting me to run it as fast as I could, and after another two trips up and down the driveway, he finally popped the big question.
“May I try it?”
I looked at the $350 car (over $400 with the charger and extra batteries) and then looked at him. The blue of his eyes shined as the sun threw its last light of the day and he looked so hopeful that I knew there was no chance I could say no. With him standing closer to me than ever before, I couldn’t bring myself to say yes, either. I handed him the remote and he took it, jumped in excitement, and exclaimed “All right! Thanks, Craig!” I pulled up the rolling chair from my workbench and sat down. He stood next to the arm of the chair and bounced with excitement when he turned the car and it slid around its front wheels. I stayed a bit still, savoring the longest amount of time I’d ever spent with a boy, and noticing to my surprise a pleasant thick smell from him of grass, clean sweat, and what I eventually learned was just a generic prepubescent boy smell.
10 minutes later his mom called him to come in and he tried to argue, which brought her over. She wasn’t in a particularly good mood about having to come get him, but her face softened when she saw the car. “Oh, did you find a new toy?” she asked him. Then she looked at me. “I’m sorry to interrupt you two but he has to get in the bath and get to bed.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I just got the car today and it was my first time trying it out. He heard it and came over.”
She gave him a look. “You weren’t bothering Craig, were you?”
“No, mom,” he said.
I jumped in. “No, no, not at all. I was just testing it to see if everything worked anyway and he ended up being helpful actually.”
At that, she smiled. “Oh, that’s good to hear. Listen, you don’t have to put up with him just because we’re neighbors. You can always send him home if he’s bothering you or not behaving. Time for your bath, Jacob. Why don’t you thank Craig for letting you play with his new car?”
Jacob turned around to face me and said “Thank you, Craig,” and actually hugged me. His body was warm and I automatically put a hand on his back before he pulled away. He was smiling before he hopped the wall and ran back to his house.
His mom shook her head and said, “Thanks for being patient with him, Craig. I’m glad he was over here with you. It gets dark early now.”
Then she walked down the driveway and back up to her house. I sent the car up and down the driveway again until she was inside, and then I brought the car back inside, closed the garage door, and slumped back in my chair. The garage still smelled faintly of him and when I remembered the hug, my body tingled where he’d pressed against me.
It turned out to be the first of many visits. Soon, whenever he saw me he’d drop what he was doing and run over to say hello. I found to my surprise that talking to him was pretty easy. He was clever and a good listener and liked to learn about things. A month went by and Jacob turned 10. I got him a card with a ten dollar bill in it, which I hoped wasn’t out of line. He was ecstatic. I was invited to his party but I thought I would feel out of place among the kids and parents and declined. But he still visited most days if we were both home and he got better at driving the R/C car than I was.
It was November when something special happened. His mom came over to collect him and sent him home.
“Craig, can I talk to you a minute?”
“Sure,” I said. I forced my voice to stay calm. Something about the nervousness in her voice put me on edge. I wondered if she’d decided Jacob was spending too much time with me, or that my interest in him was strange.
“Joe and I had plans to see a play and have dinner tomorrow, but our babysitter called and canceled. I really hate to impose on you on such short notice, but if you don’t have anything else planned, would you mind watching him after school? We’ll be back by 11.” My jaw dropped. “Oh, and of course we’ll pay you for your trouble,” she said.
“Oh, tomorrow? Uh, sure, I mean, I’m free. Yeah, I’d love to watch him. I mean, he’s never any trouble.”
“Oh, Craig, you’re a lifesaver!” she said, and gave me a quick hug. “He has a key to the house so he’s going to stay inside after school. Can I tell him to come over when he sees you get home?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll try to see if I can leave early or something. They kind of owe me anyway.”
Later that night I lay in bed and wondered at my own luck. I forced myself to sleep, woke up earlier than usual, and made it into work. Leaving an hour early wasn’t a problem if I worked through lunch, and I struggled to focus on my tasks until it was time to go. At 3:30 my boss told me I could leave an extra half hour early, and I made it home just before 4. I drove up the driveway, parked, and was pulling my briefcase out of the trunk before Jacob came out of his house and ran over to meet me.
“Hi, Craig! I can’t wait to spend the whole day with you!” he said. He was wearing a backpack and held an envelope in his hands. “Mom said this is for you.”
I looked inside. It looked like fifty dollars and a handwritten note.
“Okay, let’s go inside and take a look at everything. What’s in the backpack?”
“Homework, some cars and my pajamas,” he said.
I frowned. “Pajamas?”
“For after my bath,” he said.
That was it again. I felt my heart fall out of my chest and roll across the driveway again, but I quickly recovered and managed to follow him up to my door without tripping. I unlocked my house and let him in.
“Wow, I’ve never seen your house before,” he said. “Should I take off my shoes?”
I realized that he never had been inside my house before. “That’d be great, thanks.” He kicked them off by the door and I led him into the kitchen, where I opened the envelope. “Let’s see what this has to say.”
Jacob’s mother thanked me for watching him on short notice, mentioned a list of things she wanted me to take care of: homework, bath, dinner--the money was for pizza and I should keep the change--8:30 pm bedtime, no later than 9 pm. She said I was welcome to watch him at either my house or theirs, and that they hoped to be back just before 11 pm and would take him home.
“Okay, looks good, just some notes. Let’s get your homework out of the way.”
“I already did it,” he said.
I felt my brow wrinkle. That was my automatic excuse when I was his age. “All of it?” I asked.
“Yeah, while I was waiting,” he said. I just need someone to read my spelling words to me so I can spell them out loud.”
“Okay, we’ll do that first and then we should have the rest of the night free for ourselves.”
His notebook came out of his backpack and there was a worksheet clipped inside that showed his week’s homework organized by day of the week. Under spelling, the instructions were clear enough: “Have someone read your spelling words to you and spell them back. Practice any misspelled words.”
I read a word, and tried not to fall in love as he spelled them back. His voice was sweet and clear, and he wrinkled his nose whenever he had to think about a spelling. I imagined him sounding out the words in his head, or trying to picture them written down. He’d hang on a letter name whenever he needed more time for the next one, and although he only missed two words, the faces he made while thinking were adorable.
“Which ones did I get wrong again?” he asked, and took his notebook and wrote each down five times. “Now you have to sign off that I did my work,” he said, and pointed to the worksheet. I felt a little self-conscious as I filled in for his parents on paperwork, and it made me feel silly.
With his homework finished, he put his notebook back in his backpack and looked at me. “So... now what?” he asked.
“Well, we could order pizza for dinner and play until it gets here,” I offered.
His eyes lit up at the mention of pizza. “Yeah! With pepperoni. And can I race your R/C car?”
It made me smile. “Of course. Do you want anything else on the pizza?”
“No, but it’s okay if you get sausage too. Can we get Coke too?”
“Sure, Jacob,” I said.
I called up the local pizza place and was promised a 40 minute delivery time. So I went out to the garage where Jacob was getting the car ready and said, “Let’s race it in my backyard.”
I’d always been happy watching him race up and down our driveways but now that I had permission to be alone with him I thought it might be more exciting to see how he did with more space. I had occasionally considered building a dirt track but decided it didn’t make much sense. But I did have some wood and things he could use as jumps and he was thrilled. The next 35 minutes didn’t last long and I was never so angry to have a reliable pizza place as when the doorbell rang.
“That’s the pizza,” I said. “Go wash your hands and let’s eat.”
Jacob maneuvered the car over to him so he could turn it off and put the remote down. I pointed him to the bathroom as I followed him in and answered the door, paying the pizza guy $30 and insisting he kept the tip. “Really?” he asked as I took the box with the pizza and bread sticks and tucked the soda bottles under my arm. “Special occasion,” I said, “and you were fast.”
“Thanks, sir,” he said, and left. I always tried to tip okay, but I was in a good mood and sometimes you can get better service anyway if they learn you’re a good tipper. It never hurt. Besides, it was thanks to them that I could spend time playing with Jacob instead of cooking.
If you’ve never seen a ten-year-old eat pizza, you’re missing out. It was amazing. I even asked him at one point “Where on earth do you put all that food?”
“Right here,” he said, and pulled his shirt up. His pale skin was flawless. His belly did look slightly rounded from the pizza (answering the question) but he could have been a marble statue, as I’d mentioned. I looked longingly at the green veins I saw tracing between his belly button and the waistband of his pants.
“You mean here?” I asked, and poked my fingers on his tummy. He shrieked and pushed his shirt down.
“I’m ticklish!” he said between laughter.
“Oh, I had no idea!” I said, grinning.
“Don’t do it again,” he said, and lifted his shirt up and patted his belly. I leaned over the table and touched him again and he shrieked and pushed his shirt down again. He made happy, excited sounds as I hovered my hand around him again.
“Maybe we’d better call a truce until we’re finished eating,” I said.
“Okay,” he said, but the smile never left his face.
Astonishingly, he ate another slice and a half of pizza before he declared he was full. I ate the rest of his last slice, guiltily thinking that his mouth had touched it, and packed the rest of the pizza in the fridge. He nursed his Coke slowly and I said, “Well, let’s wash the pizza grease off of our hands and let’s see what’s next.” He moved a bit sluggishly over to the bathroom and washed his hands while I used the kitchen sink. Then we went back outside.
The R/C car was already on its second battery which only had a couple more minutes of power left before the car started struggling to make it over bumps and ramps. Jacob drove it around another minute until I decided it was time to accept the fact that racing was over.
“Can I race my cars around back here?” he asked, and I said that was fine. He went inside and came out with handfuls of toy Hot Wheels cars and raced them around. I took a spade and drew a few shallow ditches and filled them with water from the garden hose. Jacob loved that and was soon “jumping” his toy cars over rivers. Sometimes the good guys would make it, sometimes the bad guys wouldn’t be going fast enough and crash into the far bank and fall into the river and drown.
It was so childish and fun that I felt embarrassed at the thought of making up random things but at the same time, I loved watching him crawl around on the ground and yell out imaginary conversations and squeal and laugh. As he crouched on his knees and elbows, his butt often stuck up in the air and I admired it while trying not to think lewd thoughts.
He got more and more aggressive throwing the cars into the water and he was soon covered with tiny flecks of mud everywhere, in addition to a couple larger splashes of water across his body. After about an hour he came over to where I was sitting on the patio and said, “Craig? I’m cold.”
I looked him up and down and said, “Yeah, I’ll bet.” I reached out to him and he stepped forward and leaned against me for a hug, then I tickled him. He squealed and tried to escape, and I grabbed his butt with one hand to keep him from sliding to the patio. His shorts were freezing where they were wet but warm where his body heat passed straight through. His butt was soft like a firm pillow, or a marshmallow, I thought to myself. I pressed him to me hard as I tickled him and the laughter felt like liquid gold. He squeezed himself to me, trying to press his elbows into his sides so that his arms protected him. He looked up at me with a content look on his face as he giggled and made happy noises every time he breathed out. I rubbed between his shoulder blades and let him calm down.
“Maybe you should warm up in the bath,” I told him. “It’s getting dark anyway and you’ll get it over with.”
“Okay,” he said. He pushed himself up and asked if he should leave his clothes outside.
I felt the blood rush to my head as he looked at me, waiting for a response. “Only what’s dirty,” I croaked. Then added, “Thanks for being so thoughtful.”
He shrugged and then started undressing. I wished that the light was better as the floodlights showed off his body beautifully but cast dark shadows. He pulled off his shorts without undoing them, sucking in his tummy to help, and grabbing his briefs as they came down with them. I briefly saw a crease where his leg met his body on one side, and then it was gone. He turned around as he bent over to step out of his shorts and I saw a wet spot on the right side of his briefs where the white fabric clung to his body. Then I forced my eyes to stay on his face as he turned back around and carried his clothes to me.
“Where’s your bath?” he asked me.
“It’s in my bathroom, not the guest bathroom. I’ll show you.”
I put his clothes down on the patio table and put my hand on his naked shoulder as he walked ahead of me. His skin was smooth and warm and I wished I could just rub my cheek on it. He walked through my bedroom and saw the old computer there. “What’s that?” he said, stopping to point at it.
“Oh, that’s from when I was little. I keep it around to play old games.”
“Are they fun?” he asked.
“They don’t look like much, but they’re really fun,” I answered. He nodded and then we continued into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet while I pulled everything out for him.
“I don’t have any kids shampoo, so make sure you don’t get any in your eyes. You can use my body wash and here’s a washcloth. I’ll hang your towel here. Please step on the mat while you’re drying off. Do you need me to wash your hair or anything like that?” I added the last as an eternal optimist.
“No, thanks. Do you have any bubble bath?”
“No, I sure don’t. I could maybe get some for next time.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just take a shower then. Can you do the water for me?”
“Yeah, of course. Do you like it warm or hot?”
“Just warm,” he said. My heart started fluttering and I thought, ’This is it. He’s going to take off his underwear in front of me and I’ll get to see him naked.’ I’d already seen more of him than ever. Just yesterday, seeing all of him seemed impossible. The water temperature stabilized and was what I considered warm.
I turned back around to him and said, “Okay, Jacob, you’re all set.” He was standing there with his thumbs hooked in his underwear, pulled down a bit from his hips, the briefs pulling forward between his thumbs but not enough to show anything.
“Thanks, Craig,” he said. We both stood there uncertainly for a split second, neither of us moving. “Um, could I have some privacy?”
“Huh? Oh, of course!” I said. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“I’m just going to leave the door cracked so I can hear you and so the steam doesn’t build up too much, I said as I left.
I turned around and closed the door partway, rewarded with the sight of half his arm swinging out with his undies, dropping them on the floor, and as I walked over to the bed I heard a tinkling sound and then the toilet flush. The sound of the water changed as he stepped into the shower. I sighed, feeling cheated out of the sight of him fully naked but feeling selfish and greedy for not being happy with what I’d already seen.
In a bad mood, I tried not to think of what I’d missed out on, but rather what I’d gained. Other than a couple pats on the back, I’d never really hugged Jacob before, and I’d certainly never held him to me and felt him squirm against me, nor had I even seen his bare tummy much less tickled him. He was very comfortable with me alone and even in nothing but his underwear, and that was something to be happy about. And there was always the chance that I’d become the backup babysitter and get to spend time with him like this again.
I took a deep breath and then realized he was singing or humming happily in the shower and I felt like I was in love again. All I had to do was play it cool, and the night was a success. Surely he’d be back. And I already knew that just having a boy walk around in his underwear was lucky as it was. I’d seen plenty of movies or pictures, but there was just something candid and unplanned about it in real life that seemed raw and fresh.
As I lay on my bed and tried to burn the sight of his body into my long-term memory, I eventually heard my name. “Craig?” Jacob called from the bathroom.
“Yeah, Jacob?” I called back.
“How do you turn off the water?”
“Just turn the knob all the way clockwise.”
“Okay, thanks!” A second later, the water went off and was replaced by the random dripping sound of the shower head and the boy. I wondered which drips were from him. A minute later, the door swung open and to my surprise, Jacob stood there naked with the towel around his shoulders, trying to dry his back. “Can you help me get dry?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course, Jacob.” He turned around and I jumped up and hurried over to him. He had the cutest little butt and I took the towel and rubbed it against his back, not daring to go further than the top curves of his butt. I lingered there reluctantly and then dried the back of his neck. He turned around and bent his head down and I automatically started drying his hair. Blond and medium length, it took a little bit of drying, and as I did I looked down the front of his body. His skin was pale and creamy except for his arms and legs which got a lot of sun. His left hand hung by his side, and his right hand held the tip of his penis in that idle, nervous manner that all boys seem to have subconsciously from time to time. Occasionally I’d rub his hair in a way that pushed him back a little and his foreskin stretched as his hips swiveled to maintain his balance and his hand lagged behind.
I was speechless and through my nervousness I managed not to even become erect, although it felt like pins and needles were flowing through my brain, or maybe ice water. I put the towel back on his shoulders and smoothed his hair back. He let go of his penis to hold the corners of the towel with both hands and looked up at me with a grin.
“Can I play on the computer?” he asked.
“Of course you can, Jacob. Let me get it started for you and I’ll clean up a bit.”
He walked over to the computer desk, put his towel on the chair, and sat down. My eyes widened as I realized that he intended to stay naked. He looked over at the PC tower and asked, “Does this turn it on?” I looked at his hand and he was pointing at the power button.
“Yup,” I said. I walked over to him and sat on my bed, behind his chair. The computer was an old 486 from the 90’s and booted up to a black DOS prompt.
When the startup messages stopped he swiveled the chair around to face me and said “Where’s the Start Menu?”
I chuckled and said, “This computer doesn’t have one. Even if you start Windows there was no Start Menu yet. You have to type in commands.”
“How do you know what the computer has then?” he asked.
“Well, you installed them, so you know what you installed,” I replied. “Do you like Star Wars?”
“Yeah!” he said.
“Okay, let’s try X-Wing, then.” I got up and felt Jacob’s eyes on me as he watched me pull a CD jewel case out from the cabinet, open the CD-ROM drive tray and place it in. Then I reached over him and started the game.
CD \XWINGCD [Enter] BWING [Enter]
“How do you know what to type?” he asked over the company logo.
“Well, I know where the game is, and ‘CD’ goes to that folder, and then I just run the game. You can type ‘DIR’ to see what’s in the folder if you forget.”
“Oh,” he said. I watched him read the story crawl and he said, “This is just like the movies,” as the camera panned down to reveal hand-painted Star Destroyers slide onto the screen. “Except it doesn’t look as good. You can see all the dots.”
“Yeah,” I said, “But when this game came out it was amazing. And games couldn’t rely on their graphics. They had to be fun to play. You’ll like this one. It’s like being in the space battles for real.”
He was excited that he got to name his pilot, and disappointed to have to read another Star Wars-style scroll before starting his first mission. He took the joystick and I told him I’d work the keyboard for him. I reached over and dumped his weapons energy to his shields and set his weapons to slowly charge, and set him loose as he used the joystick to weave back and forth around the larger ships.
“This is kinda fun,” he said, flying around. Then the music changed and he said, “What does that mean?”
“See the message at the bottom of the screen? It means the Empire has shown up and there are TIE fighters coming in. You have to beat them.”
“‘Sensors detect three new TIE fighters at 5 kay em.’ How do I beat them?” he exclaimed.
“‘Kay em’ means kilometers. So press ‘R’ to target the closest one and use your radar to find it.” I tapped ‘I’ to change his ship’s computer readout to ‘targeting mode’ and he started flying straight for them. As they came in range, they started shooting and his shields dropped.
“They’re shooting me!”
“You have to dodge them,” I said, and reached over to the keyboard, equalizing his shields and transferring a little weapon energy over to recharge them.
He looped around and tried to shoot them, but kept missing. “This is too hard. They’re too fast.”
“You can do it,” I said. “You just have to shoot further ahead of them so they run into your lasers. Don’t shoot where they are, shoot where they’re going to be.”
It took a few minutes for him to score the two hits that destroyed a TIE fighter, but eventually he did it.
He raised his hands in victory. “I blew him up!”
“Good job, but don’t forget there are still more,” I encouraged him.
He grabbed the joystick again. “Oh yeah, I forgot.” He pressed ‘R’ on the keyboard and I reached over his back and patted him on the chest. He smiled when I did but kept his concentration on the game.
He played four missions and started to learn the controls. This gave me a chance to look down at his penis from above. It was small, maybe a bit over an inch, and his foreskin tapered to a little point that hung from the end. His testes were also small, and sometimes he’d sit with his legs together so they were invisible, and sometimes he’d stretch and they’d pop up into view, pushing forward and resting on top of his legs. Occasionally he’d put his foot up on the chair and they’d hang there, peeking out on either side of his penis.
Meanwhile, he’d hold his penis occasionally when he was nervous about racing to meet enemies before they could get to the freighters he was supposed to be protecting, but unless he was stretching it, it never seemed to grow. I wondered if I had done the same thing when I was younger. It seemed to be an unconscious nervous action, and I remembered seeing boys doing the same thing in public before.
He failed a couple of missions and had to replay them, and finally around the time he was finishing up the seventh level I told him that once the mission was over it was time for bed.
“Do I have to? I’m having too much fun!” he said.
“Sorry, Jacob, but it’s past 8:30 and we want to make a good impression on your parents.”
“Aww, that’s no fair,” he said.
“I’m going to go get your pajamas,” I said, and I went back into the kitchen where his backpack was and looked inside. He had cotton shorts and a shirt but no extra socks or underwear. I took the clothes back in with me and said, “I found your pajamas but no underwear.”
He frowned as he tried to lead a TIE Interceptor. “I don’t need them with pajamas,” he said. I know it’s silly, but after the entire night, that’s what gave me an erection. I adjusted myself, and watched as he destroyed the last TIE, then when the status bar said “Mission Complete” I reached out and typed ‘H’ to make the hyperspace jump that brought him back to the Rebel cruiser and completed the mission.
“Good job, Jacob.”
“That was soooo much fun!” he said. “Are all old games like that?”
“Well, this one is definitely a classic,” I said, “but yeah, most of the ones people still remember are just as good.”
“I liked the music,” he said. “It changed depending on what was going on.”
I smiled. “Yeah, they put that right on the box. IMUSE was a big thing back then. They don’t really do that anymore.”
He got up and lay down on my bed with his legs hanging off at the knees, and stuck one leg up for me to put his pajamas on. I’d never undressed a boy and I’d certainly never imagined that dressing one would also feel just as thrilling of a prospect. I wondered how his small penis stayed pointed down, resting on his scrotum. I put his clothes down and put a hand on his tummy, and he giggled, so I tickled him. He shrieked in laughter and brought his legs up over him, exposing his penis and scrotum and his anus, too. I grabbed a foot and started tickling it, and his body snapped stiff as a board before he started squirming and trying to push my hand away with his other foot. His penis bounced wildly and he turned over, so I tickled his sides, and, seeing his scrotum between his legs, dared to tickle the tops of his legs just under his butt. He arched his back, pressing into the bed, and after swinging his legs wide he squeezed them together so my finger was trapped. His skin still felt smooth and perfect, and the temperature was rising as he continued to kick and laugh.
He turned over again on his back and covered his stomach with his hands, his legs up and ready to kick at me if I tried to tickle him, but with no apparent effort to cover himself otherwise. I took a kick to the shoulder to tickle his tummy again, and when he pushed my hand down toward his penis, I grabbed his leg and squeezed right along the top by his groin. He squealed and arched his back, widening his legs before he managed to squeeze them tight again, then pulling his knees up to protect himself.
In my mind, all I could process were two things: the energizing, flowing sound of his laughter, and the fact that my hand had brushed against his penis and was now squeezed against the side of his scrotum, trapped by his legs. At first his penis felt cold and almost rubbery, and his scrotum cold but soft, and immediately warmed up and became hot.
Meanwhile, he wasn’t shocked, appalled, offended, or scared by the touch. He didn’t seem to even realize that my hand was touching his private parts. His face was twisted in laughter, and he grabbed my arm to keep it there.
I tickled him again, and his body jerked open, and I pulled my hand away. He was practically wheezing with laughter, laying on my bed with his arms and legs up, fully exposed to me. When I reached for him again he grabbed my arm and pushed my hand between his legs, wrapping his legs around me and saying “Now you can’t get me!”
He was right. The back of my hand pressed against his scrotum and I could feel the soft tip of his penis nestled against it too, the overhanging foreskin bent back to make it recognizable, but I couldn’t reach the back of his legs.
He held me there, panting and squealing “No!” when I tried to twist my hand, until finally I managed to twist and grab his leg. He squealed and pressed his penis into the webbing of my hand between my thumb and forefinger, and tried to stretch his legs to bring them out of reach. After he failed, he let go of my arm and opened up his body, covering his penis and scrotum with his hands and moving his feet in the air, threatening to kick at me if I tickled again. He was panting and breathing hard and his face was red. He was on the verge of giggling and gave in any time I made a move.
“Okay, okay, you win. Let’s calm down a little. We have to get you dressed.”
“You can’t tickle me,” he said.
“I won’t tickle you, honest,” I said.
He pulled his hands away and after a moment put his feet down again to dangle off the bed. He was still panting and his penis lay resting to one side.
I picked up his pajamas shorts and held one leg open. He lifted a foot and I gently guided his shorts around the foot, his wheezing turning into a squeal as I neared his foot, but calming down as I didn’t tickle him. I admired his scrotum as he lifted the other foot and held it in midair so I could loop the other hole onto his other leg. Then he held them up as I pulled them up to his thighs. When I got there, he planted his feet on the edge of the bed and lifted his butt up, grabbing the back with one hand to pull them up. His penis flopped up onto his belly and I slid my right hand from his side to the front to lift the waistband up over his scrotum so his testes wouldn’t get squished. My knuckles gently grazed both his scrotum and his penis as they slid the shorts up, pausing only long enough for him to slide them up over his butt from behind.
Then he lay back down again and I reached for his shirt. He sat up and put his arms over his head. I lowered the shirt over him and he wiggled into it. As soon as it was on him he got up onto his knees and jumped on me, almost knocking me over.
“Thanks for letting me play that Star Wars game,” he said. His arms were around me and he squeezed me into a hug. Just as I wondered at his heartbeat against my chest, he pressed his cheek against mine and then squeezed tighter and wrapped his legs around me. My left hand automatically fell to his butt to support his weight so I didn’t fall.
Through the very thin cotton material, his bottom was soft and warm and perfect, and I pressed him into me but resisted the temptation to squeeze it.
I wanted to say something, but no words came. I just held onto him, and for the next 10 seconds I felt his breath in and out and his heartbeat and I came to the conclusion that all was right in the universe. I didn’t believe in gods or myths but for just a moment I could almost believe that it was a god right there in my arms, so warm and soft and special.
Jacob let go of me and said, “Am I sleeping in your bed?”
“Uh....” I actually hadn’t thought up to that point and didn’t have an answer for a second. “Uh, yeah, Jacob, you can sleep in here. Your parents will be home and get you before I go to sleep.”
“Okay,” he said, and started pulling back the blankets to settle in. I tucked him in, then knelt by the bed.
“I had fun tonight. Did you?” he asked.
“Yeah, Jacob, I had a lot of fun.” I reached out and ran my fingers through his soft hair. He pressed against my hand with his head for a couple of strokes, and then grabbed my hand and held it against his chest.
“Did you ever babysit anyone before?”
“No, this was the first time.”
“Too bad, you’re the funnest,” he said. “What will you do when I’m asleep?”
“Well, I’m going to gather your clothes and make sure your backpack is packed, and then I’m going to get on the computer,” I said.
“And play Star Wars?” he asked.
“No, my laptop and I’m going to read my email,” I said.
“Oh. And what’s the farthest level you got on Star Wars?” he asked, a little more slowly.
“I’ve beat the game four times, Jacob.”
“Craig?” he asked.
“Yeah, Jacob?”
“Was I good today?”
Yeah, buddy, you were the best, Jake,” I said. It was the first time I’d called him anything but Jacob, and for a moment I cringed inside. A pet name plus a nickname together was coming on kind of strong. But he didn’t react.
“I loved having you as a babysitter,” he said, quietly. “Can you watch me again next time, too?”
“Yeah, Jake. I’d love that. Any time. You were great tonight.”
“Craig?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
How come when I beat the TIE Fighters they just sent more?” he asked, his eyes closed.
“Well, when you defeat one wave, the Star Destroyer sends more. That way they don’t waste a ton of TIEs all at once,” I said.
I waited for a reply, but none came. I looked down at him and his eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His hand rested on mine and I marveled at how soft and warm it was. Under my palm, his tiny heart thumped as his sudden breaths caused his chest to rise and fall.
I looked at him longingly, wishing he could spend the night. Wishing I could sleep next to him and hold him in my arms. Suddenly the few seconds of holding him after tickling on the patio and in bed didn’t seem fair, didn’t seem enough.
I leaned over him.
“Jacob?”
He didn’t answer. I saw movement flicker under his eyelids, but they were the random movements of sleep. I leaned closer and I suddenly felt his breath tickle my face. His breath was a soft, almost creamy sweet scent, and it was intoxicating.
I leaned closer. In the quietest whisper I could manage, I tried again. “Jacob? Jake?”
He didn’t move.
I froze. Uncertain. Conflicted. But desperate. I leaned in and kissed him.
Not a passionate kiss, or a lewd kiss, but a simple one, lightly and on his lips. They were soft and dry and the kiss was technically slightly spoiled for him not participating in it and puckering. But it was magical anyway.
I kneeled there just holding his hand for a couple minutes, watching his face and trying to memorize it. In his sleep, he looked like an angel, totally at peace with the world. It made him look even more beautiful than when he was awake. Finally I sighed, then I went into the bathroom to hang his towels and gather his underwear. I smelled them, wondering if they would be something special. They simply held the same boyish smell as he did.
Outside, I left his cars for the next day. I gathered his clothes from the patio, folded them, and put them in a plastic grocery bag, repacked his backpack, then I grabbed a tumbler from the cupboard, opened up the cabinet high above the sink, and pulled down a bottle of whiskey. I looked at the label. “10 years,” it proudly proclaimed.
I thought this was appropriate. I poured two fingers, and sipped it, thinking of the little boy peacefully asleep in my head. If I believed in angels, I wouldn’t have doubted I’d found one. A bit over an hour later I heard his parents drive by and pull in. I’d almost dozed off in the chair. A knock at the door a few minutes later announced his mom’s arrival.
“How was he? Did everything go okay?” his mom asked when I opened the door. She was holding a thick fleece blanket.
“Yes, he was perfect, actually. He did most of his homework before I got home and he wasn’t any trouble at all.”
“Are you sure you didn’t watch a different boy by mistake?” his mom said with a smile.
“Pretty sure, unless there’s more than one that likes pizza,” I quipped back, returning the smile. “How was your play?”
“Oh, it was fantastic. We know one of the extras. Craig, we haven’t had a nice night out like this in ages. I can’t tell you what it meant to us that you could fill in on such short notice. I’m really sorry we had to impose.”
I felt my face heat up. “No, no. Jacob is a really good kid and I see him all the time anyway. He really wasn’t any trouble. Any time I can help out please just let me know. I mean, we’re neighbors and everything anyway.”
She gave me a quick hug and said, “You really are a lifesaver. I hope you know it. Where is he?”
“He fell asleep in my bed after playing some videogames. He’s right in here,” I said, getting up and leading her into the bedroom.
She looked at him sleeping peacefully and said, “I hope we didn’t keep you up being out so late. I don’t know what time you usually head to bed.”
“It was fine, I’m usually up until at least 11 if not 12,” I said. “We just ended up in here playing computer games and I just forgot to plan out the sleeping arrangements.”
“Craig, you’re a prince,” she said.
I peeled back the covers and she leaned over and picked him up under the arms. His body hung limply for a second before he sucked in air and wrapped himself around her. He blew the deep breath out through his nose again and I pondered how something so simple could be so cute. I felt jealous that he wasn’t wrapped around me, but I simply put the fleece blanket around him and tucked it under his chin and his bottom.
“Please let us know if we can ever do you any favors,” she asked, as we walked back out through the house.
“I will. And just remember that he’s always welcome here whenever I’m home.”
“That’s so kind of you, Craig. He really looks up to you. Good night.” And with a smile and a fleeting view of Jacob’s angelic face as it faded into the darkness, the night was over.
I went back into the kitchen, refilled the tumbler with whiskey, and gulped it down. Then I took a very short hot shower, dried off, and climbed into bed.
As I lay on the pillow, I breathed deeply. The smell of Jacob faded very quickly, but for that first minute with the cottony feel of the whiskey and the lingering boy scent of my little friend, I imagined I could call it heaven.
Sleep was heavy and refreshing, and the next day I woke up feeling empty and incomplete. But it wasn’t the last time I got to watch Jacob. It was only the beginning.