Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Moving the Wood

I had a ton of wood delivered. Yes, at the rear of the house, thanks. Yes, under the roller door. As far in as you can manage it, thanks. No, I'm not expecting miracles. Stock up for the winter, before I get into the habit of always buying from the servo. What a pile! Day off, time to move it.

My step son Fen arrived at exactly the right time to help.

Don't worry Christian, I'm not doing a work out today, I'll move it.

He's a powerhouse, is Fen. He can get a bit nasty on too much booze, but otherwise a delight to have around.

And easy on the eyes. He just brims with good health and cheeky smiles and sparkling eyes.

He pulled off his T-shirt.

Sure?

He looked even more cut.

Sure, I'm sure.

You been working on that stomach?

He looked down and rubbed it. Yeah. Big smile. What do you think?

I just smiled.

Is it wrong to purve on your step-son? (Oh, I don't perve on him, its just admiration) Twenty years old and as cute as a button, with the body of a, well... genetically gifted boy who has trained diligently at the gym for the last two years. What can I say? How does he fill out those jeans quite like that?

He carried down an armful, cradled in front of him, making his chest expand out. It looked sexy as he breathed in and out. Fine dark hair covered his chest. Usually, he waxes. I did it for him once. He didn't stop laughing. Bravado! He's got his mother's olive skin. He's got her eyes. His jeans clung to his hips.

Dark hair. Blue eyes. Gorgeous smile. Not a care.

Sigh!

I headed back to my computer.

I don't see much of Fen any more. He's at uni, living with his girlfriend. He smokes too much pot, according to his girl friend - I hope that's not a legacy of me and his father. But he's passing with good marks... and a few passes, he said quietly behind his hand to me, the last time I saw him. Big smile. But no fails, though. Good, hey?


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