Well, our young lovers never got beyond a good tongue battle in our last chapter. Hopefully, something will pop up in this chapter. And once it's up, let's hope they know what to do with it! Here is the concluding chapter of A New Beginning.

---

Richard continues...

I lie sleepily under my covers the next morning, rehashing yesterday's events. My God, I had met and declared my love for the boy of my dreams; and, he had returned it to me. I had the first, sweet, meaningful kiss of my young life. I had wrapped Carl in my arms, laughed with him, cried with him and felt our souls combine. I lie in bed, grinning like that cat in 'Alice In Wonderland'. I believe it's only the weight of the covers that keep me from floating above my mattress. Ah yes, Carl... my delightful, evil little troll! And I giggle anew at the thoughts of my little guy's antics.

I wonder if he's lying in bed, at this moment, thinking about me just as I'm day dreaming about him? My day dream turns quickly into a fantasy and I decide to telegraph him a message using my Morse code stick. The dot dot, dit dits of my message soon become blurred by the increasing speed of my sending hand. The result is a rather garbled form of communication that results in a bit of a sticky telegram. Oh well, I suppose it's the sentiment behind the message that's important. 

Using yesterday's tee shirt, I wipe the dots and dashes from my chest then walk down the hallway to the bathroom. I drain the old lizard, which has lost its petrified state, and begin adjusting the water temperature of the shower. As I step into the warm spray, my mind again replays some of last night's events.

I'm thinking what a pleasant person Carl's Mother turned out to be: just as I had somehow suspected. Carl had brought me downstairs to meet his Mom, dragging me by the hand-again. Mrs. Fuller looked at the two of us, chuckled, and said ...

"What have we here, Mutt and Jeff?" She was referring to our size differences of course. (Not that-you perv! I mean our height differences.)

"Oh Mother," Carl retorted, "I just borrowed him from the zoo long enough to feed him and train him. I'll have to return him shortly."

I guess that was Carl's way of informing his Mom that he wanted me to stay for dinner; which I did. I called my Mom and got permission and then her and Mrs. Fuller yakked on the phone for a bit. 

Later, after dinner, the three of us sat around the dinette table playing cards and visiting. Mrs. Fuller and Carl drove me home at about eight o'clock. On the way, Carl and I made plans to hang out together (heheh) today. He was to peddle over in the morning on his bike. 

I finish my shower and then go back to my bedroom to throw on some board shorts and a clean tee shirt. Once my socks and shoes are on I wander downstairs to the kitchen. Mom is up and fussing about. She isn't in the kitchen making breakfast, however.

"Morning Richard. You'll be spending the day with your new friend, Carl, I guess?" 

I told her of our plans when I got home last night so I just concur by a nod of my head. I set about preparing my own gourmet breakfast of Frosted Flakes and toast. Mom, for some reason, hasn't made up the usual weekend fare of eggs and pancakes.

"Well, honey, I'm going to be gone for most of the day. I'm driving up to McCall to visit with your Aunt Cathy. Since I probably won't be back until late in the evening, I left some money on the counter for you to buy some lunch and dinner. There is enough there so that Carl can join you."

Ah, that's why I'm fixing my own breakfast this morning: Mom's bugging out. She grabs her keys and purse and walks over to give me a buss on the forehead.

"See you this evening, dear: try not to make a mess of the house, okay?"

"Okay Mom. We'll bury the dead bodies in the back yard and wipe the blood stains from the walls before ya get home."

"That's a good boy, Richard. Well I'm off!"

My Mom trusts me implicitly. Of course I've never given her any reason not to. She doesn't have a problem with me having guests over while she's away. But I have to admit I feel my blood whirling through my veins with the news of her absence today. What with Dad on a business trip and her up North, that leaves me with Carl and an empty house. Sounds like a pretty good recipe to me!

I hear Mom's car start up in the driveway and then I start slow waltzing around the kitchen with my bowl of cereal. I eat my breakfast while having visions of my, hopefully, conjugal visit with Carl. It would seem that the god of Eros is on our side today. I just finish rinsing my bowl and placing it in the dishwasher when I hear the doorbell. I dash to the door like a marathon runner (or a fourteen year old full of testosterone).

When I swing open the door there's my little vision in the flesh. Carl's standing on the front stoop wearing a pair of board shorts, a tee shirt and a grin, just like me. We're dressed the same and he looks like my 'Minnie Me'.

He chuckles,"Hi, Mr. Bambrough. Can your little boy come out and play?" 

"Well, I don't know, son" I reply, in my deepest Daddy voice. "The word on the street is that you're some deranged pervert who is set on leading my boy astray!"

"Well, sir," he responds in his sweetest, innocent, Opie persona; "I do plan on riding him HARD and putting him away WET!" He chortles-while I blush.

"Oh my gosh, Richard," he exclaims, as I swing open the screen door. "I haven't been here thirty seconds and I already have you turning vermilion." He walks through the door, peering around him. As I close the door he turns around and grins at me.

"Am I right in guessing that you are home alone, little boy?"

"Yep," I respond, "Dad's on a trip. Mom's away 'til late this evening and she left me money to feed us. Then she said not to let you get any sperm on the furniture!" 

Carl's eyebrows shoot up at that comment. Then he gives me a look of disbelief.

"She didn't say that," he counters.

"Well," I continue, "those weren't her exact words. It was more to the effect of not making a mess in the house."

"My, my, Richard. You are quit the potty mouth this morning, ain't ya honey child?"

"Well, darn it, Carl. It gets my goat that you can make me blush at a snap of yer fingers yet I can't get a rise out of you!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Richard," and he glances down at his tummy. This causes me to follow his eye movement and I look down at his crotch. Oh ... the little buggar has a woody! My face turns crimson.

"Har, har, Richard-you don't know just how easily you get a rise out of me, lover boy!" And he pokes me in the ribs with his elbow. My crimson turns to neon red. 

"I'd kiss you," he says, "only I don't want to jab out your kneecap with my weiner!"

I giggle, reach towards him and grasp the sides of his head.

"Come here you evil boy." I pull his face into mine, bending down to make contact with his lips. We play tongue commando for awhile and then Carl breaks away.

"Save something for the honeymoon, lover lips," he says with that imp-like grin. "Now, how about showing me your digs."

He'd said somethin' to me but I hadn't heard a word. My head's still back there in that kiss.

"Wha ...what?"

"Your house, Richard, show me yer house," he says, "as soon as yer head makes a landing back on your neck!"

I grin at my little smart ass, put my arm around his shoulders and say ...

"Okay, wise acre, this way," and lead him into the living room. I do Carl's arm sweeping gesture and say ...

"This is where the Bambroughs turn their brains into organic mush," as I nod towards the TV. I hear him take a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, my, God! A giant, flat panel TV? Are your parents like, RICH... or what?"

"Well, Dad's some kinda corporate something or other and, yeah; I guess he makes pretty good money," I say, trying to down play things a bit. Now I'm thinking about Carl's own humble surroundings. I don't want to have him feel uncomfortable in my house. I want my sweet bambino to feel like this is his second home.

"Wee ..." he exclaims, and makes a nose dive onto the couch. "Fire up the tube, big boy, and we'll make out in the balcony!" 

Huh-so much for him feeling uncomfortable, I guess. I put one hand on a hip and with the other I wag a finger at him.

"Now, Carl," I begin, "how am I gonna show ya the house if ya don't even get past the living room?"

"Aw, okay," he responds, rising from the couch. "I'll let you ply me with Coke's and a movie later."

I take him into the dinning room and show him a table that can seat eight, even though there's just the three of us.

"Needless to say, this room is just my Mom's show piece. We usually eat in the kitchen or on TV trays in the living room."

"Yeah," he grins, "they probably got the big table thinking of future in laws and grandchildren. Boy, have you got a surprise for them!"

"Uh... yeah," I reply, "and you really know how to stifle a party mood."

He sees that he's dampened my spirit considerably with that remark, and so he comes back with...

"Ah... come on Richard. We're in the same boat: I'm gonna have to lay the big, bad news on my Mom someday too. But that day ain't today; so buck up, buckaroo." 

I just shake my head at him and grin.

"Come on, butt wipe, let's keep looking" I respond.

I show him the kitchen-I wanna save the bedroom for last-heheheh! Carl heads for the fridge.

"Shoot, Richard. You ain't that rich! I don't see a single jar of caviar in here." 

"Don't be middle-class, Carl," I retort, "the caviar's in it's own cooler in the grand ballroom."

"Ballroom," he snorts, "the ball room's in your shorts!"

"That might be, smart ass, but the caviar's in your shorts-itty bitty fish eggs!" Oh my God, I actually got Carl to blush! 'Hmm ... I think my petite boyfriend is a bit sensitive about the old ding dong size.'

"Ahhh, Carl; I was just teasing. I'm sure you have enough equipment to get the hole dug: maybe even enough egg sac to fill it back in with too!"

"Oh well," he giggles, "it isn't how long the rod is, it's how good a fisherman you are," and he wiggles his eyebrows again. 

I chuckle and walk over to the patio doors. I open the slider as Carl walks up beside me. 

"Oh, DUDE-a Jacuzzi and an above ground swimming pool," he shouts, rushing outside. I follow him and walk up to the pool. Being a swimmer, this is my pride and joy. It's big enough I can actually swim laps. I stand there grinning at it. 

"Yep... this baby's pretty neat in the summer time but, as you can see, Dad's drained it fer the comin' winter."

I look over to where I figure Carl's standing beside me. He isn't there. I look around and see him: he's standing by the Jacuzzi. He's down to nothing but his socks and soon they're flying over his shoulders! His little, white butt is gleaming back at me. My breath implodes! He's like a miniature, Michelangelo sculpture: he's so beautiful. My knees actually start to shake!

"Whee..." he exclaims, as he slides, head first, into the warm water. He comes up, spraying water out of his mouth like a fountain. 'That's so funny: even a whole tub full of water can't get that cowlick to lay down.' His hands wipe the water from his face but leave his grin intact. He's looking at me with this leering expression. I can see his evil, little mind working overtime.

"Okay, Richard! Strip down, mister! And do a sloow strip tease for me."

My face is doing it's stoplight thing: I can feel the glow.

"Oh, my poor, little, shy poopsy" he says, grinning-with malice in his voice. 

"I'll hide my eyes if you want, while you undress," and he makes a show of covering his eyes but peeking through his fingers.

Now, I don't know why the idea of being naked in front of Carl should embarrass me. I mean, I'm on the swim team for cripe pete. And I strip in front of dozens of guys all the time. But those guys aren't my little Carl. Besides, I'd boned up big time when I saw his cute little butt slide into the water! Ah... to hell with it: I'll give him his show!

"Okay, Carl... but you'll have to imagine the bump and grind music."

I start to do what I think's a good imitation of a strip dance: slowly pulling my tee shirt over my head. When I drop it to the ground, I sway my hips suggestively and squeeze my naked boy titties. This elicits a whistle from my appreciative audience. 

"Hubba, hubba, baby," he responds, while jumping up and down. I can almost see his little tallywacker on his up jumps.

I kick my shoes off to a musical beat in my head and then reach for my fly. I unbutton it and slowly slide down the zipper. All the while I'm licking my lips, alluringly. At least I'm hoping it's alluring: it seems to work on the internet flicks! I make like I'm gonna whip my pants down-but then I just bend over and slip off a sock instead. 

"Oh... be still my beating heart," he shouts, giggling and snorting.

'Hmm, I guess it must be working!' I slide off the other sock, twirling it around my finger and then fling it at him, like a garter belt. This leaves me with just my boardies, unbuttoned and unzipped: I'm not wearing any underwear. I do a slow dance from side to side, holding onto the waist band. Carl's eyes are like saucers and if he grinned any harder his cheeks would bleed! By now he's leaning over the hot tub-to get his eyeballs closer to the action. I turn around so that my back is to him and bend slightly at the waist. Then I slowly lower my pants until my white, bare bum is shining at him! I let the pants drop to my ankles.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" I hear whistles and thumps against the side of the hot tub!

"Show Daddy his prize," he cat calls. I can hear the water splashing behind me and I know he's jumping around like a pogo stick.

I step outa my shorts and bend down, as revealingly as I can, to pick them up. This shows him the crack of my butt. Then, before I rise up, I put one finger to a butt cheek and make a "Psst" sound, like I'm burning my finger.

"Medic! Medic!" He shouts, "heart attack here!"

I hold the shorts up in front of my waist and turn to face him. I dance from side to side, my jewels modestly hidden, while I look at my boy's enraptured face. I'll bet his little tail is wagging fast enough to froth the water! Then I drop the shorts-only the shorts don't fall! They float, magically, in front of my waist! Carl's eyebrows shoot up and he tilts his head, trying to make sense of what he's seeing. Then his head snaps backwards and he starts laughing. He's figured out what I'm using to hold those shorts up with! (I told you I had boned up big time looking at his cute little rear!)

"Har, har, har," he roars, falling backwards into the water. This is the opportunity I was waiting for and I drop the shorts and slide a leg over the side of the tub, slipping inside. I don't have to expose 'little Richard' in his excited state. I turn the dial to get the bubble jets started so I can maintain a modicum of modesty.

Carl's looking at me with that puppy dog look again-I think he likes me. He steps up to me and wraps his arms around my neck, causing me to fall backwards onto one of the molded seats. He has my lips caught in a vise grip and then he searches for my tonsils with his tongue. All this while something like a finger is poking me in the belly. But, since his arms are wrapped around my neck, I'm pretty sure it isn't a finger. When he grinds it against my stomach he definitely proves it isn't his finger. Carl comes up for air and is just grinning into my face. "Thank you for the show, Richard. Can you tell I liked it?"

I nod my flushed head a couple of times, unable to form words. And then he slumps down so he's sitting right on top of 'little Richard'! I take a sharp breath of air and realize: I no longer have a desire to be modest about my nether regions. In fact, those regions are tapping out a 'hello' against Carl's cute, little backside right now.

We're both giggling, rolling around the tub, grasping ... grappling ... groping ... and doing explorations that would make Lewis and Clark proud. We spend about forty five minutes in that tub just introducing ourselves to various parts of our anatomies. The introductions aren't very formal; they're more of the hands on variety-numerous firm handshakes-if you get my drift!

When we get so wrinkly that we look like octogenarians, we retire to my bedroom and cuddle onto the bed. This is where we both discover that certain bodily functions are enhanced ten fold when someone, besides yourself, initiates them. Oh God; talk about your stars, fireworks, whistles and bells. We make that discovery three times in a row in various positions and contortions. Wow, Carl might be small, but his staying power is unbelievable! And, I definitely love playing with his little G.I. Joe. Like a good little soldier, it stands at attention while I inspect the troops. I take him to the rifle range and he fires volley after volley. I'd be a dead man right now if he weren't firing blanks-cuz he's aiming right at me when the rifle goes off! Wheeew ... he coulda blown my brains out. I don't think he'd be any happier if he was firing real ammunition though. He seems to enjoy the mini explosions; if the hollering's any indicator!

Carl isn't so fortunate when he inspects my troops. He finds out my soldier has a 'hair trigger' on his rifle. I shoot him right between the eyes-no blanks in my gun-no siree! No permanent damage, I'm happy to report, and Carl comes out of that mishap chuckling and grinning. We only allow the soldiers to come to 'parade rest' for a short time before we have them 'up' and doing calisthenics. Soldiers have a real 'hard' life and ours battle gallantly until they collapse from battle fatigue.

It's two hours later when we finally wander downstairs to collect our clothes. I feel like I'd swam a thousand meter free-style, in lead boots, in a pool full of Jell O.

Well, my honey bunny and I are going to go out for some pizza and rent some videos. He says I still need to ply him with some Coke's and a movie. When we get back we'll probably continue the war games in the bedroom ... heheheh! As if Carl hasn't already conquered my world! Shucks, I was ready to surrender to him the first time I saw him in math class. Funny how something that starts out so confusing can end up so perfect. Well, that's life I guess. You lose so many little battles and then, if you're lucky, you win the big one. I'm certain there isn't anyone luckier than Carl and I-or happier-or more in love. I'm pretty sure we're going to grow old together. I'll be makin' love to my little sweety when he's as wrinkled as he was in the Jacuzzi: and I'll kiss every wrinkle. And sometime, between now and then, he'll start shootin' live ammunition!

---

~~~The End~~~

---

Ah ... wasn't that sweet? What do you mean "where the hell is the explicit sex?" Good Lord, perverts-get a life! Richard and Carl have one. Yeah, I agree ... I wish I had their life too. Oh well, we still have our hands and our imaginations. Race ya to the finish line! And thanks for sticking it out for the whole story. (You can put it away now).

I dedicate this story to my friend and fellow author, David Clarke. He edited the first six chapters of "A New Beginning" for me and is the author of "Timmy and the Travellers" in the young-friends section of Nifty. It pays to have the truly pedantic as friends-especially if you're grammatically challenged like I am. And my thanks to ACFan who graciously checked the punctuation and spelling on this final chapter.

---

The Boy's Glee Club members are seeking pledges for this year's walk-a-thon. This year's slogan: ";I Upped My Pledge!-Up Yours!"