#BOY GAY SEX STORIES SOCCER FULL#
I can hardly say in the hour of my questions and her answers, that she had my full attention. "Leave Phil alone honey, I have to talk to him, we'll have supper in just a bit." Andrew's mother was waiting to be interviewed for the book I'm writing about New England. Smooth, beautiful, and waiting on my attention. Saw Newcastle play."Ī teenage high school soccer star. "Tell Phil about your soccer tour, honey," she said to her son.Īndrew turned his full enthusiasm on me, "Our school team played some matches in England, we traveled round by bus. "Sure, like the shirt, Andrew, cool," I was wrong-footed by his beauty but his parents were hurrying us indoors out of the cold.Īndrew's mother gave us a glass of wine. I looked down: black trackie bottoms, white sports socks to wear around the house. Not a hair in sight at the base of that beautiful pale neck. The shirt was rugby-style, its three buttons undone, so you could see the beginnings of his chest. "Hi Phil," said Andrew, his eyes exactly meeting mine like the polite kid his posh parents want him to be, "I'm wearing a Newcastle soccer shirt in honour of you English guys." "Hi I'm Andrew," he reached out his hand, with the tiniest of blushes in his cheek, I looked down at his bare, hairless forearm, grasped the firm, fit, sure hand for the first time, "Phil" I said. Young, translucent pale skin, green eyes, a mop of blond hair, high cheekbones, a flashy grin revealing teeth in the last-stages of braces. The door to an all-American home, father, mother - the people I was here to see and interview, grandparents, a young daughter - and her brother. My researcher doesn't know of my perversions, but she could hardly have missed my rising excitement at what I saw. Show me the right teenage boy and I have no self control.Īt the front door the family gathered to greet their visitors. Maybe I hoped he'd look like that because I knew I wouldn't be able to help myself. But I thought, even as I took in a couple of mountain bikes in the drive and a basketball hoop in the backyard as I parked up the car, I thought that he'd be pimply, unengaging, ugly.
I knew that there would a teenage son when we arrived at the house in New Hampshire on a fall evening.