21 Ağustos 2022

the-mysterious-dragon-boy-2

Anal

Subject: Mysterious Dragon Boy II At home an hour later I looked around and found one of those plastic cover things that you get when you pick something up from the dry cleaners. I covered the white silk shirt and hung it my closet, admiring it for the beautiful work of art that it was. Needless to say there was no one I could share my experience with so I didn’t, not even the fact that I’d driven clear out to hell and gone in a torrential rain storm on a quest for things dragon. Within a few days I seemed to forget a lot of the details of my Monday morning experience. I wrote it off to my work load and the fact that the whole experience had almost been like a dream. However, whenever I opened my closet and my eyes rested on the silk shirt, the memories seemed to wash back over me like a wave at Sandy’s. The following Monday I drove back out for my meeting with the boy. The weather looked like it was going to be a repeat of the previous week and sure enough, within five miles of my destination it was coming down in buckets. The same thing happened once I reached my destination and again, I had to park a hundred feet or so away from the door, necessitating a mad dash in the rain and getting soaked before I made it to the front door. The same old lady with the blue hair was at the front desk and didn’t even turn her head as I went through the door and past her counter. Like the week before, there were few cars in the huge lot but didn’t appear to be anyone else in the store. I hurriedly navigated my way through the intersecting aisles and all but ran headlong up the stairs. Just as I reached for the door knob I heard the familiar click so grabbed hold of the brass color knob and turned it, pushed, and stepped through the doorway. A quick glance at the dragon clock on the wall told me it was nine oh five as I closed the door behind me. I didn’t see the boy at first, expecting him to be behind the counter for some reason. Probably because everything else that morning seemed to parallel the week before. He wasn’t there so I turned and looked toward the back of the shop and saw him, or his head actually, as he glided through the sea of clothing almost like a wraith. I could see his magnificent green eyes from where I stood, and I saw that his hair was exactly the same as I remembered it with not a hair seeming to be out of place. As he got closer, more of him emerged from the sea of clothing and I could see that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, the St. Christopher’s metal very visible on his bare chest. I felt my cock begin its rise, wondering if the boy was already naked and hard in anticipation of our eventual coupling. As it turned out he wasn’t naked but you can’t get any closer to being naked than he was and still be considered clothed. What he was wearing, if wearing can even be used to describe it, was nothing more that a small piece of cloth and string. The same design as a thong, it was an article of clothing more common to Japan called a fundoshi. The piece of cloth was such that it barely covered the boy’s genitals and was held in place by a thin string, and I do mean string, around the waist with another piece of string running from the bottom of the cloth, between the legs, up through his butt crack and attaching to the string at his waist. The thing made a traditional thong look bulky and cumbersome and as he came closer I could see that what little cloth there was also had a dragon print on it, fiery red on a dove gray cloth. I also notice how well he filled out the pouch that was barely holding him in check. A closer look indicated that it wasn’t holding him in entirely; some of the skin of his boy bag was peeking out at the very bottom. The boy looked incredible; there is simply no other way to describe him. If anyone could wear what he was and pull it off he was the one. It almost seemed as though he was bathed in a slight glow, his freshness and innocence all the more prominent. “Oh you’re so wet,” he crooned to me as he sidestepped around the counter and came back out with a towel which he handed to me. “Go dry off and hang your clothes then come back out. I’ll wait for you,” He said, stepping aside to allow me to pass. In the small back room I found the heater going, the same clothes hanging just as they had been the week before, and I went about adding my soaking wet clothes to the mix. Completely dried, I left the room, my rock hard cock leading the way. I saw him standing in front of the window so went to him, and almost stopped dead when I got through the clothes as saw him. That kid had the most amazing, thoroughly awesome, perfect ass I had ever seen on anyone at anytime, anywhere. My cock literally jumped as I thought about burying my face between those golden globes and eating at the core of him until I just fell over dead from lack of regular food and water. He was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. There was something odd there, something that seemed out of place but I couldn’t put my finger on it and I certainly wasn’t in any mood to dwell on it either. I went up and connected with him, wrapping my arms around his and pulling the boy into me. Using a little muscle control I’d raised my cock up enough so that it lay up against his gluteal cleavage. “Hhhmm, you’re cold,” I said softly as I held him, and indeed he was. He felt almost as though he’d been outside, in Vermont in the middle of winter. The rain hammering down on the roof reminded me that it was indeed still winter in Hawaii and as such, colder than it normally would have been. “And you’re warm and so hard. It feels so good having you hold me,” he said, readjusting his arms so that my hands and arms were against his bare chest with his arms on the outside holding mine and snuggling back into me. As I felt him warm up I allowed my hands to begin roaming slowly up and down and side to side on his muscled torso, amazed at how well developed the young teen was. As I rubbed against his nipples I felt them harden so allowed one hand to stay there and tease at them both. I let my fingers of my other hand do the walking, down to the edge of the cloth, letting the tips slip under the edge and graze against the side of his cock, finding his boyhood soft and pliable, and then down to the edge of his downy soft hairs. I didn’t let them stay there long as I wanted to tease the boy. His cock was only starting to get hard and I wanted to take my time with him. I pulled my fingers up then had them slide down onto his upper thighs then moved inward to the soft smooth flesh below his balls. When I came up I used only the very tips to graze as lightly as possible on the fabric where his sperm makers were hiding. The boy moaned out as I touched him there, his arms moved up and wrapped backwards around my neck and he pressed his butt harder against me. I let my fingers do another round trip while I kissed softly in the crook of his neck causing low moans from him. The boy’s breathing was becoming more rapid as my fingers made it back around and up to join my other hand at his nipples where they each grazed against the small nubbins of flesh. “Have you showered today?’ I whispered into his ear, sliding the tip of my tongue inside after I asked the question. He shivered heavily then whispered back that he’d showered just moments before I had gotten there. “That would explain being cold,” I thought to myself but again, something didn’t quite fit and I couldn’t put my finger on it, which was just as well cuz my fingers were busy elsewhere, or were going to be. I moved my lips toward the back of his neck and as I did so my hands moved down to his hips. I let myself slowly drop to one knee, kissing my way down his smooth bronzed back as I went. I kissed until I reached the very beginning of his crack and began using my tongue. I licked into the beginning of the cleft and down into it slightly, my hands moving toward the fleshy part of his butt cheeks, kneading his firm flesh. The boy seemed to know where I was headed, hell, how could he not. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the frame at each side of the window pane in front of him, then spread his feet apart about eighteen inches and pushed his butt out toward me, causing me to move back a little. I dug my fingers in gently and pulled his cheeks apart then using the fingers of one hand pulled the tiny string out of the way and gazed at his core. There are holes and there are holes but this one was like the most delectable, desirable, edible object I had ever seen. There wasn’t a hair to bee seen anywhere, the flesh totally smooth except for the wrinkled muscle that was his center. The bronze tone of his skin extended all the way inside his cleft and a brief flash went through my brain, “How did he manage that?” The only difference was that the puckered hole was a little darker. My cock was pulsing between my legs as I stared at the object of my desire and then I leaned in and let my tongue snake out and taste him. Above me the boy gasped loudly and I began to wash him in there, working at pushing my tongue inside of him. I took in his aroma, much like the week before, soap, a little sweat and boy. My cock was dripping like a faucet and I knew that if the thing had a brain it would be screaming to be put where my tongue was. The boy reached behind him and pulled on a cheek, trying to open himself even more to me. I lowered the cloth that was holding his balls in place, exposing them then licked down onto the sensitive underside of the soft smooth nuggets that hung like fruit in front of my face. I stayed there a moment then ran my tongue back up to his core and paid homage there for awhile longer. “Oh oh oh oh,” the boy moaned above me. I wasn’t sure how much longer either of us could take it. I reached down and soaked a middle finger in my precum then put it against the boy’s puckered muscle and slipped it inside of him until the knuckles on my hand were against his flesh. I slipped back out, then back in and on the next outward movement turned my hand so that I could massage his little prostate. Just the act of turning my hand while inside of him caused the beautiful young teen to moan but after a couple of passes across his sensitive little organ and the boy started begging me. “Oh gosh, put your cock in me right now. The KY is on the shelf behind you. Hurry please,” he moaned. I turned around, saw the tube and grabbed it. I didn’t want to lose bodily contact with the boy so kept finger fucking him while my free hand held the tube to my mouth so my teeth could get hold of the lid and I could get it off. That done I squeezed some out onto my cock then smeared it all over my swollen cock head and down the shaft. I squirted some around the finger that was moving inside his butt then slipped the finger out and moved some of the gel into the hole before putting my finger back in. “Do you want to take this thing off?” I asked him, tugging on the string that held his fundoshi, as I stood up. He shook his head. “No, leave it on,” he said between ragged breaths, “just hurry up and get your big cock inside of me.” I kept the string off to one side, moved in close and as I slipped my finger out of him I grasped onto my cock just below the head and pushed it inside the boy’s butt. “Ooohhhhhhhhh Gaaaawd,” came out of his mouth in a low groan and he stood up a little bit. I stopped all movement of course. I mean, my finger is maybe three quarters of an inch around while my cock has got to be six at least. That’s a substantial difference. “NO! Don’t stop please. Put it all the way in.” The boy definitely had a sense of urgency about him, as though his time was limited. I’d picked up on that the week before as well but of course I’d been so diyarbakır escort busy… I did as the boy asked, reveling in the feel of burying my cock inside the very tight confines of ass. I watched, almost mesmerized as every available inch of me slipped inside of him until my pubic hair was touching his golden skin. I held onto his hips and slowly pulled out about half way before sliding back inside. I had been there before, fucked a boy, but like everything else about this kid, being inside of him was the best, most intense, most satisfying experience I’d ever had. And I had just started. The boy moved a little bit, getting closer to the window. I hadn’t noticed it much before but the wall under the windows was only about knee high. If the windows hadn’t been mirrored anyone who was downstairs could have looked up and watched us, well, mostly the boy since he would have blocked their view of me, but they sure would have known what was going on. “Oh gosh, fuck me, ohme, fuck me hard, ohme,” at least I thought that was what he was saying. I would realize sometime later that wasn’t it. In any case I held onto the boy’s slender hips and picked up a nice steady rhythm, sliding in and out of his tight little ass, using my hands to push and pull him in order to enhance the action. I could see over his shoulder and see a sort of shadow of our reflection in the window the contorted expression of lust, pain and pleasure on his face. “Harder, fuck me harder, ohme, ram your hard cock into me ohme,” he moaned and groaned. It was difficult to understand him and I didn’t really need to. I got the essentials and that was all that mattered. I picked up speed and began driving into him, mashing my cock into his hole. One of his hands left the window and went low in front of his body, I assumed to pull his covering down in order to get at his rampant cock. The movement of his arm soon confirmed that thought. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled, his eyes almost closed from the lust that had taken over his smooth young body. I could see a very light sheen of perspiration on his upper lip, his tongue snaking out and licking his lips. He was moving against me, trying to push his ass into me as I pummeled him. “I’m gonnacumohme, I’m gonnacumohme, AAAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEE,” he literally screamed out in a voice that sounded like a young girl getting murdered or something and I worried that someone would have had to hear it. I felt his asshole constrict against my cock, once, twice, four, six times. The second constriction took me over the edge. I began pumping a ton of hot cream into him, holding his hips in place and grinding my hips every which way to create more and different pressures for us both as my balls were drained of their life producing juices. I went back to fucking him, ramming my cock deep into his tight ass, my head rolled backwards in the throes of the most stupendous orgasm I had ever experienced, better even than the week before when the gorgeous boy had fucked me, and it remains so today. I continued to love him, the boy continued to push his butt back against me, moaning the entire time. Things finally died down, I slowed and then stopped my motion as did the boy and we just stood there panting. He finally spoke. “Oh thank you so much. I have been waiting for that for longer than you can imagine. It was everything I ever thought it would be, everything I wanted it to, and so are you.” I kissed his neck and whispered in his ear that it was without a doubt the best experience of my life too. “I want to see your face,” he then said. “I want you see you while we fuck.” Oookay. I started to pull out of him and he stopped me. “No. Can you carry me to the back room like this, with your cock still inside of me?” I figured it would be awkward but it could be done. I wrapped my arms around his waist and lifted, immediately amazed at how light the boy was. He had lifted his feet from the ground and held them still as I carried him to the back room where he directed me to sit on the sofa. I did as he asked. He then turned his upper body and placed a hand on my shoulder and balancing himself, started to turn his lower body, using my cock as a pivot point. He ended up facing sideways then he raised the leg closest to me up and over my head, tucking it in so that when it came down it was in a kneeling position. With a little maneuvering he got his other leg in the same position so he was on my lap, facing me, with my cock still shoved up his ass. What an incredible experience that was! “Ooohhh yeah, that’s much better.” He put his arms around my neck then started kissing me, soft and tender little pecks, first on my lips, then my nose, my eyelids, my cheeks then back to my lips. “I’ve wanted to do this forever it seems like. He wiggled his butt, moving my cock around inside of him and said, “You’re still hard. So am I.” We both looked down at his rampant cock for confirmation and he said, “I guess we shouldn’t waste them huh?” He started moving, first by raising and lowering his body on me, then moving to and fro in an undulating motion. Then he added side to side action and before I knew it, both of us were back to breathing quite heavily again. I spent part of that time with my fingers holding on to his steel hard cock, slowly stroking him as he moved. I reached down under his butt and felt where my cock went inside of him then pulled the cheeks open even wider for him and let my finger tips just feel around down there, in contact with both of our bodies at the same time. “Can we move so I’m on my back, my legs are getting a little sore,” I looked at the sofa with an idea of using it but there really wasn’t enough room. “Hold on to me,” I told him and he did as I asked. I held my hands under his slim butt and inched forward on the sofa until I could slide off onto my knees on the carpet. Once there I gently laid him down. I held his legs back out of the way and started moving in and out of him again. After a few minutes of that I put his feet flat on my chest and fucked him that way, my hand down under his leg and grasped onto his cock. As I fucked him his raging hard cock moved in and out of my tightened fist which in turn caused some interesting expressions on his face. “I’m getting there again,” he said so I lowered his legs, draped them over my forearms then leaned forward and put my hands on the carpet next to him. The action caused him to roll higher onto his back and gave me a better angle of entry. He threw his arms around my neck as I started fucking him again, driving into him at about half force. “Oh yes ohme, yes that’s what I needed ohme.” He mumbled a lot so it was still difficult to understand just what he was saying but the panting sure was easy to decipher. I drove down into the boy, ramming my cock into him, slamming my body against him so hard it made a loud slapping sound, like a child being spanked. My balls were whacking against him with a force that, under other circumstances would have hurt like hell. I felt the tingling starting in my balls and my belly and once again I was thrown over the abyss into a chasm of orgiastic bliss. Below me the boy was crying, literally, tears were running down his face as he came, his smooth muscled body shuddering against me and once again his hole constricting against my cock with each spasm of his orgasm. I continued to drive into him, taking time out from pumping to grind my ass in circles, working as though I was trying to get my entire body inside his and using his asshole as the starting point. Nothing so far in my life had prepared me for the intense feelings that being inside of this boy, of unloading my sperm into the young god, would produce. I closed my eyes as though looking at him would make him go away and continued my motions, pushing, shoving and slamming into him until every last drop had been milked from my cock. As my sperming subsided, my motion slowed down but I continued to move in and out of him for a short while, not wanting to leave his body although I knew it would happen. The boy rose up and kissed me, pressing his soft lips against mine then relaxed back down to the carpet. I slowly moved back, taking the weight off of my hands then let his legs down. “Lay on me,” he commanded, so I returned to a prone position and slowly relaxed my weight on his body. “You’re not so heavy. I sort of like having you on me,” he said. Given the position we were in and the difference in our sizes I was surprised that his neck was so close so put my lips to the soft crook of his neck and kissed him tenderly. His body shook beneath me and he giggled. “You’re going to get me hard again if you don’t stop.” “So? We have time,” I said and kissed him again. “No, we don’t,” he answered me. It is almost twelve thirty. “What?” I asked him. “It can’t be. We haven’t been playing for over three hours.” My cock softened and squished out of him and once again we both moaned at the loss only the roles were revered that time. “I miss you already,” he said as I rolled off of him and onto my own back. He rolled over and rose on an elbow, his face above me. He leaned down and kissed me tenderly then said, “You are so cool and incredible a man.” He then got up and grabbed a hand towel from somewhere and cleaned his sperm from his torso where it had splattered when he came. He gently cleaned my cock off then reached behind him and wiped his bottom; cleaning off the various goo’s that would have collected there. “We must hurry, she will be here soon.” He got dressed quickly, and I was taken aback somewhat at his clothes, the cut off jeans so out of place in a land where board shorts were the de rigueur mode of clothing for boys and girls. He tossed on an old looking pair of black high top pf flyers as well. I figured that they must be about the only pair in the state. I was still having trouble with the time thing until we got out to the counter and I saw that the dragon clock said twelve thirty five. Shit, how the fuck did that happen? How could three hours get by me so easily? “Should I come back next week? Same time,” I asked him. I really want to see you again. The adorable boy shook his head, a neutral look having taken over the usual smile on his face. “I really want to see you as well but there is somewhere else that I must be. There are rules, I have no choice in the matter.” I heard what he said but it didn’t register until later. When I asked if he would be back sometime he paused then cocked his head almost as though he was listening to something that I couldn’t hear. He then gave me a coy, rather playful smile and said, “Perhaps; God willing.” A seemingly innocent comment. “When,” I asked him. “You will know,” he replied. I must have had a perplexed look on my face because he said it again, “trust me Toby, you will know.” We both looked at the clock which now read twelve forty five. Man oh man time sure had a way of getting away from you in that place. We kissed again, a long deep almost clinging kiss that felt like a goodbye to me and when I looked into his stunning green eyes afterwards there was a profound sadness in them. He opened the door and I stepped out, got down one step then turned quickly. The door was on its way to being closed but stopped when I turned around, the only part of him being visible was his head. “I don’t even know your name,” I said. He smiled again, that eye blinding smile that I was positive could cause the downfall of civilizations. “But of course you do,” he said softly, “Toby.” The way he said it could have been taken either of two ways, that is; he was saying his name was Toby or he was saying to me “yes Toby, you do know my name.” Toby of course, düzce escort was my name. As much as I wanted the answer to that conundrum I didn’t get it because the door closed as soon as the boy finished talking. Of course I tried the handle and like that last time, it was locked. I considered knocking, hammering even, but deep down, I somehow knew it would be a useless effort that would achieve nothing more than calling attention to me. I headed back down the stairs and at the bottom almost ran into the older woman that he had said was his sister. “May I help you with something?” she asked, it being obvious I’d just come down the stairs. I shook my head. As tempted as I was to get back inside the shop and see the boy for what might likely be the last time, I didn’t. I didn’t want to risk causing any trouble for him; or for me for that matter. Or maybe there were other reasons why I didn’t want to go back up. I had a very strong suspicion that there were things that I didn’t want to know, truths that I didn’t want to be confronted with. “No,” I responded with sadness in my voice, “I just got the wrong place is all. Thank you.” And I walked away. I’d had a lot of thoughts of the boy over the next few days although I noticed that they seemed to be stronger when I was around my house as opposed to at work or other areas. It was sort of like my brain was keeping my memories sequestered until I had time to devote to them. However, when I had them, I reveled in the memories of our time together which brought a smile to my face and a firmness in my pants. I was dying to see him again but as he said, he wouldn’t be there; he had other places that he had to be. So there I was a week or so later, standing in my bedroom looking at the white silk shirt in the closet with memories running through me like a trailer for a movie. Something caught my eye from under the clear plastic so I took the shirt out of the closet and gently removed the plastic covering. I laid it on the bed saw that the pocket located on the left breast was about half way off, the seam on one side almost completely undone. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t seen it before but then I hadn’t really looked had I? I was upset almost beyond words. I loved the shirt but there was more to it than that. It symbolized a boy I’d spend my most memorable time with, albeit short though it had been. The shirt was perfect and the boy who’d sold it to me was perfect. This simply wouldn’t do. Something had to be done about it. The shopping bag that I’d brought it home in was still on my closet floor and as I glanced at it I wondered why the boy had given me such a large bag for a single shirt. I picked it up and saw that the name of the shop and the phone number were printed on a tag that was hanging from one of the bag’s straps. I reached for my cell phone and called. The voice at the other end answered but the greeting was so fast that I couldn’t hear it. I explained that I had purchased a silk aloha shirt there a few weeks before, that I had just discovered a tear in it and wanted to exchange it for another one. “I’m sorry I don’t sell that sort of shirt here,” she told me. I was a little confused but insisted. It was only a few weeks ago surely she would remember having the shirt in her shop. She too insisted that she didn’t carry that sort of shirt but that she was very busy at the moment and if I wanted to bring the shirt in for her to look at it I was welcome to do that. Remembering my experiences of the past weeks, I elected to put the shirt in a heavy plastic single suit travel bag with a zipper front. I couldn’t imagine what water would do to silk. I headed out of my house, the day somewhat overcast but no real threat of rain. As I got closer to the store the dark storm clouds began coming in, although by the time I got there it still hadn’t started raining but it sure looked like it was gonna start any minute. I trudged up the steps and entered the shop. There was a single customer who was being waited on by the lady that I’d met on the stairs the week before. I laid the carrying case with my shirt on the counter. I glanced at the window and saw the streaks left over from where the boy’s sperm had hit it and run down, drying where it stayed. I allowed myself to smile. I looked up at the clock to check the time and saw that the dragon clock was gone, replace by coca cola clock. As I looked around the shop I noticed other changes as well, newer racks and different clothes; way different clothes. These were children’s and women’s clothing; the colors more bright and the styles more frilly and there wasn’t a dragon in sight anywhere; not on clothing, not as knick knacks on shelves; nothing. “Wow, a big change in a short period of time.” I thought to myself. I wandered toward the back, just looking around and when I looked inside the “back room” I was shocked to see that it too had been remodeled and now had a much newer styled sofa and a tiled floor. “May I help you?” a voice said behind me and I turned to see the woman whom I assumed the boy had referred to as his “sister.” Up close I could see that she was a little older than I had originally thought, in her early sixties probably. “Yes,” I replied, “I called an hour ago about a shirt that I bought here recently. I have it up front on the counter.” She smiled and nodded her head and as we walked to front of the store she said, “Yes, well, as you can see we don’t carry that sort of clothing. This is strictly a women’s and children’s shop.” “I don’t understand,” I said, anxiety starting to build in my belly. “I was here a little over two weeks ago and bought this shirt.” I unzipped the front of the black plastic case and pulled open the flaps, exposing the front of the white silk dragon shirt. A sharp gasp caused me to look up. The woman had paled visibly and she had her hand to her mouth, her whole demeanor expressing shock and disbelief. I heard the roar of thunder outside, a rare enough occurrence in Hawaii, and then the sound of rain hammering the metal roof above our heads. “Where did you get this,” she whispered through her fingers. “I told you, I bought it here on a Monday, a few weeks ago. A boy sold it to me.” Her eyes were the size of saucers and reeked of fear and confusion. “What?” What boy?” “A boy about thirteen, he said his name was Toby, he said…” Her scream, almost piercing, cut me off. “Is this some kind of sick joke,” she screamed at me, tears welling up in her brown eyes. “You heartless bastard; get out of my shop right now before I call the police, you sick son of a bitch.” I was stunned and I knew that my face showed it but the woman didn’t seem to give two shits about that. “Go! Get out! She yelled, visibly crying. She stormed around the end of the counter, grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open, knocking over a small display of children’s things. “I said Get out!” I quickly zipped up the case and left, heading down the stairs, the door slamming hard in my wake. I got a dozen or so steps into the aisles of junk on the main floor and turned to look up at the mirrored windows. As I started to turn away, a movement caught my eye and I looked to see the swinging doors that led, probably to a loading area, open and just in time caught the sight of a sandy haired head before it disappeared through the doors. It was the boy. I’d seen the back of that head up close and from a distance. I knew it was him. “Wait,” I called out and headed for the doors. I pushed through them and found myself in a large open space, clearly a storage area in a former life. It was extremely dim in terms of light and as my eyes adjusted I caught the shape of movement and decided that it had to be the boy. “Wait,” I called out again and headed toward the shape that appeared to be moving away from me. All of a sudden there was a blast of dull light as a back door was opened to the outside less than twenty feet in front of me. The figure turned to me and from twenty feet way I could clearly see that it was the boy. He smiled, his big, face splitting smile then let the door close. I ran and hit the door full force, slamming it open, and propelling myself out onto a loading dock and into the pouring rain. I looked right, saw nothing then turned left and saw the back of the boy as he approached the end of the building. He turned and looked at me again, smiled and waved then went around the corner. I ran to the corner and turned around it to see virtually an acre of wide open space with knee high weeds. The area was littered with hunks of concrete none of which was much bigger than a child’s wagon. But no boy. He had vanished. He couldn’t have run around to the front of the building because a high chain link fence ran from the front corner all the way to a drainage ditch over a hundred feet away. In any event a sprinter couldn’t have made that run, in any direction litter or not, and disappeared before I had rounded the corner of the building. No fucking way. And then the rain simply stopped. It can happen like that in Hawaii. The rain often seems to come out of nowhere, the droplets blown by the wind from the mountains to rain down on cloudless ground three miles away. Sometimes you can drive into a rain squall and see dry road a hundred feet in front of you. I’ve had it rain in my front yard while it was bone dry in the back yard. It’s weird. Another thing that happens in Hawaii is the amazing shafts of sunlight. Like the rays often depicted in religious pictures and stained glass windows and such, the shafts of light are often very clear, poking through holes in the clouds, their edges seemingly razor sharp, like a search light on a clear night. It happened with rainbows too, the edges sharp and clear. They say it’s because of the totally clear atmosphere, the lack of smog in the islands. I had seen them hundreds of times and was still amazed by the phenomenon. Such a shaft of light suddenly appeared in the center of the open area and I saw a shape in the center of it where it touched the ground. It was the size of a boy, it was my boy, and in the smoke like apparition I could see that his arms were outstretched toward me, not unlike depictions of Christ. And I heard a voice, or at least I thought I did because it was more inside my head than outside. It was like a whisper on the wind and almost as vague as the shape in the light. “I love you.” And then the shaft of light faded and was gone. I stood there for at least five minutes, dripping wet, the plastic shirt case draped over my arm, before I turned and went back to my car and left. All the way home I thought hard about what had happened to me. The whole thing seemed as real to me as last night’s dinner. I didn’t do drugs or alcohol, aside from the rare toke of pot, and I never had, so that wasn’t it. As far as I knew there was no history of mental illness anywhere in my family. I looked over at the case that held the shirt and pulled the zipper down far enough to make sure the shirt was still there, it was. I didn’t know what to think. I let my mind wander over the two encounters that I’d had with the boy, looking for clues about what had happened but my mind seemed to be a blank. By the time I got home an hour later I still had no clue. Inside my house, I tossed my keys and wallet on the dining room table, draped the shirt case over a chair and went to the laundry room where I stripped my clothes off and tossed them in the dryer then went to the bathroom, grabbing the shirt case on the way by, and ran a towel over my body. From there I went to my room, took the shirt from the heavier travel case and hung it up then pulled on some underwear before heading back out to the kitchen with the edirne escort intention of brewing a cup of strong coffee. As I passed the dining room table I saw a somewhat bulky brown manila envelope lying there. “That’s strange,” I thought. I hadn’t seen it there before but then given the experience I’d just had my mind wasn’t too focused. I opened the envelope and looked in and saw a white, greeting card size envelope and a newspaper clipping. I reached in and snagged the white envelope with my middle and index fingers and fished it out. I shivered as I opened the envelope up, took out the card and then almost fainted. I had to sit down. On the outside of the plain white card was a pencil drawing of a boy in a fundoshi that looked remarkably like the boy when I had seen him first thing that morning. I opened the card and taped to the inside of the plain white card was a color picture, the kind you get at school every year. It was the boy, exactly as I had seen him in our encounters. The smile he gave for the camera was one I had seen a dozen times during our time together. His crystal white teeth almost shined, his green eyes twinkled with merriment, and his beach boy haircut was perfect. And he was wearing the white silk dragon shirt. On the other side of the card was a hand printed message: My Toby, Thank you so much for what you have shared with me. I am now complete. I hope to see you again, you’ll figure it out, I know you will. I love you. Your boy, Toby I looked at the picture again then turned it over and on the back in small print it said, “For my friend Toby.” I reached for the manila envelope and pulled out the newspaper clipping, discovering that it was old and yellowing. The large bold print said, LOCAL BOY MISSING! In the middle of the article was a black and white picture identical to the colored one that I had just received. My heart skipped a beat and I took a deep breath before starting to read. In essence what had happened was that the boy, Tobias Findley… and there I had a heart attack. Or at least it felt like one. My name was Tobias “Toby” Findlay, only my last name was spelled with an A not and E. This was getting too fucking weird. I read on. …disappeared on the night of the worst storm in ten years or more. It was thought that he may have been caught up in a flash flood that had roared down the small drainage canal close to where he’d been staying. The press of water was so fierce that it had overflowed the walls of the ditch, uprooted trees and tore a few houses right off their pilings. While the boy had been a very strong swimmer it was doubtful that he could have survived if caught in the flash flood. The boy had last been seen at home that night, leaving for the nearby Foodland around six thirty. It went on to say that Toby was from Maui but had been staying at his grandmother’s in Waianae along with his twin sister. In addition to the article was an obituary for Toby and another horrible shock for me; actually a series of shocks. First off the boy’s birthday was March fifteenth, the same day as mine. Obviously the year was different. He had disappeared on February third nineteen fifty six. This had been the fiftieth anniversary of his passing, or disappearance as his body was never found. I got up and went to my calendar and sure enough, the first day we had spent together was February third. His memorial service had been one week later just like my second encounter with him. My heart was racing and I needed to sit back down before I fell down. I had been born on the twenty fifth anniversary of his disappearance on what my parents had told me was the worst storm on record in twenty five years in central Oregon. My parents always used to comment about it when I was acting out. “You were born on a hell-ish day so it’s no wonder you’re a little hellion.” The obituary said that he loved to swim and surf, his hobbies were reading and drawing, all things that I had in common with him. He also had a fascination for dragons and collected dragon things. I thought about how difficult that might have been in mid fifties but then this was Hawaii so perhaps there were more opportunities to follow that passion than in say, Topeka Kansas for instance. I was still left wondering what the connection was with his sister being gone to Maui and had to assume that she was visiting her mother, the boy’s mother, although the woman would have had to be in her late seventies at the very least. I looked into the envelope again and saw what appeared to be a white piece of paper, folded up. I took it out and as I unfolded it a medal and chain fell out onto the table again. Shocked again! It was a pencil drawing of the dragons that I had tattooed on my chest and back. The way it was done was as though you were looking at me from the front and at the tattoos on my body except that my body wasn’t there so you could see the tattoos in their entirety. Colored pencils had been used that duplicated exactly the colors on my tattoos. On the upper left hand corner were the words: For Toby and in the lower right hand corner it said, By Toby: the name was done so that the crossing of the T was angled downward from right to left and angled back around underneath the other letters like a large C and made up the longer tail of the Y. Beneath the signature it was dated: February 3, 1956. I picked up the medal which looked old and tarnished, identical to the one the boy had been wearing only on a longer chain. Of course it was a St. Christopher, the guide and also protector, and on the back a very small T had been scratched in the surface and the scratch appeared recent. “What in fuck had happened to me?” I wondered as I sat there. Had I had sex with a dead boy, a ghost? While the experience had had its surreal moments the boy in my arms had been very real to me. Considering our birthdays, names and the like, I wondered if somehow I was that boy, was I a reincarnation of him? Had I fucked myself, so to speak? I thought about the shirt and went to my room and took it out into the dining room. I sat there for a moment as the entire thing sort of played quickly through my mind only now I was able to see things for what they were when they happened but with a clearer vision. The clothes he had been drying and was wearing when I left were the type worn by boys in the fifties. The d�cor of the back room we were in, all from the fifties. He had never seen my boxer briefs because they hadn’t been invented, just as board shorts hadn’t been invented yet. He didn’t understand the term “woody” but knew the word “boner”. I guessed that one had been around for ages. I knew then too then, how he had died. He had drowned, that’s why his clothes were soaking wet and drying when I met him. The large bump I’d felt behind his ear while he was sucking on me had probably been from a piece of tree or something and had rendered him, if not unconscious, then certainly weakened and if it had been the latter then his death might possibly have been horrible. That was why his body was so cold at the beginning of our second visit. A dead body has no heat, or it was the fact that he has somehow just gotten ot of the water. Regardless, it was what it was. The inside of the shop, at least when we were together, must have existed in a world that was neither his nor mine, which might explain some of the anomalies. His hair being perfectly dry and neatly combed while his clothes were soaking; the clock and how time seemed to go by so incredibly fast; why he felt so rushed. Of course there was the fact that it was a different shop entirely when I was there that morning because he wasn’t in it. I also remembered one of the other odd things that I’d noticed on a couple of occasions but hadn’t had any clarity on until then; the boy’s tan. There wasn’t a spot on him that wasn’t a golden color and I knew in my heart he wasn’t a local boy or descendent from some other olive skinned people. His skin tone was from the sun and the only problem was that, other his palms and the inside of his mouth, his tan was one hundred percent complete and even. Usually there would be like shirt lines, or underwear lines or something. And speaking of underwear, what had happened to the fundoshi? I distinctly remembered the boy being totally naked when we had finished and were both getting dressed. He hadn’t taken it off that I was aware of and I didn’t remember seeing it lying anywhere afterwards either. As things began to fall into place I had another memory and I run to my room and grabbed the receipt from the store. Sure enough, the white silk shirt was on there as were the briefs but nothing else. I remembered buying a whole bunch of t-shirts and other button down shirts yet none of them were in my house. And then it hit me. That was why he insisted I wear the shirt out of the shop. The only things that survived the transition were the things that were touching my skin; the shirt, the briefs and the bag. The receipt had been in the hand that was clutching the straps of the shopping bag and I didn’t let it fall into the bag until I was out of the shop. And then something else struck me. I left everything and went outside to my car where I let my mind wander back to the beginning of my adventure. I found that my full recollection of things wasn’t as clear. I could remember a lot of stuff but I didn’t have nearly the clarity that I had when I was close to the white silk shirt. I waited a moment then went back up stairs and sure enough, as I got closer to the shirt, things started coming back to me and when I held it there was an almost physical change. I took it out of the plastic covering, somehow already knowing what I was going to discover. The shirt didn’t fit me at all. It was a boy’s size. This was the shirt that Toby had owned and worn. It was in all ways a sort of permanent link to the boy, and he knew that it would be. My mind wandered to some of our dialog, things that he’d said. The things he was saying as I fucked him. He was calling my name. I could hear it clearly in my memory now, “fuck me Toby,” not owme. He said that he had to be somewhere else, that there were rules and when I asked if he would be back he had said God willing. Did that mean there was a God and that the boy was somewhere out there, his actions dictated by the world inhabited by the spirits of the dead, assuming such a thing existed and it sure as fuck seemed like it to me. What else had he said? He’d told me that he was coming back and that I would know it. I picked up his card and reread the note: “I hope to see you again, you’ll figure it out; I know you will.” It sounded to me like we could possibly see each other again but that it would be me that had to figure it out, to figure out how that could or would happen. I put the card down and picked up the shirt and held it to my face. I could actually smell Toby in the fabric, as though he’d just taken the shirt off. My mind was a blaze of memories and then it hit me, almost like a ton of bricks. Of course; it was pretty simple actually. I put the shirt down wrote a little note and taped it to the December page in my current calendar. It was something I did for doctor’s appointments or other things I needed to remember to do the following year before I had a calendar to mark such things on. I would like to think that I would have remembered but the fact was, my memory around the experience seemed to come and go in the short term, and I was not going to take any chances on what might happen over the long term. I also wasn’t going to take a chance on the ancient newspaper article being around to remind me of things. No, there was only one sure fire solution; the note. I created it so it was of my world and it should be there when I needed it. The note read: Hold the white silk dragon shirt. If I was correct, and I was pretty darn sure that I was, I would see my boy, Toby, in a little over eleven months from today; on February third next year.

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