I'd shown Tony the house, and he had picked a bedroom he liked – right next to mine. I wondered about that for a moment, but then dismissed the idea. It was a big, empty house, and he was used to having a lot of people around. I was sure that was the only reason he was keeping so close. He'd already expressed his suspicions of me earlier in the day.

But the boy showed some initiative later, and made supper – of a sort. Hash browns with chopped onions, fried eggs, and some rather hard biscuits. But he'd made them from scratch, so he had an excuse, anyway. And to my surprise he'd cleaned up as he'd gone along, so the kitchen was in pretty decent shape.

I had him break the biscuits up into a bowl while I heated some milk. Just before it boiled, I took it off the stove and poured it over the biscuits, along with a good amount of honey, some vanilla, butter, and some cinnamon. After it had soaked awhile, it made an acceptable desert. Not gourmet, but edible.

"Unless you totally fuck up, you can usually make something out of any 'mistake'," I told Tony, smiling at him. "It all depends on how much trouble you want to go to, to fix it. This was pretty easy, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a shame-faced smile.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said jovially, "nobody becomes an overnight expert. Everything takes practice! I give you high marks just for trying!"

He gave me a blushing smile, but didn't say anything.

And as strange as I thought the meal to be for supper, it was pretty good.

Over the next couple of weeks the garden got weeded and covered in the black plastic the man at the store had recommended, although since I wasn't going to be making use of the garden, I hadn't bought the fertilizers Tony had recommended. The tension between us slowly disappeared, and Tony no longer tensed up when I put a hand on his shoulder, gave him other casual touches, or brushed his hair out of his eyes. He'd even relaxed enough that he'd cuddle up to me while we watched television. I'd caught myself, on occasion, repetitively brushing my fingers through his hair as we watched the shows, but he had never said anything about it. In fact he seemed to enjoy it. But that's as intimate as we had become.

I was totally shocked. I'd contacted a realtor to find out what property was going for around here. Somewhere between sixteen hundred to two thousand dollars an acre! A minute with paper and pencil, and using the lowest quoted price per acre, produced a number that absolutely floored me. Almost three million dollars. Figuring in the large house and the two tenant houses would probably add about another hundred thousand or more to that figure. And what about the water?

I'd forgotten to ask.

I'd also made an appointment for the next day to consult with a lawyer about gaining guardianship of Tony. Otherwise Johnson would be able to charge me with kidnapping when I sold the place and moved – if Tony decided to come with me.

The lawyer, when I saw him, advised me of the legal methods of obtaining custody of Tony. Over the next three months I'd be taking classes, filling out forms, being investigated....

At that point I stopped listening. As a single gay man, especially in Georgia, I'd never be able to get legal custody of Tony. Never mind that I had a squeaky clean record with the law – I was gay, and that would be all it took to be turned down.

Fortunately for me the lawyer was a pettifogger, and not above doing a little shady work, as he very cautiously and slyly let me know when he saw my distress and learned of the reason for it. With a little fancy verbal footwork we came to an understanding. For a certain amount of money (which I will not disclose) he could forge the papers and get them entered into official records. However, they would have to be signed by all the interested parties – me and his parents. Forging too many signatures raised the chances of getting caught.

But it had turned out that getting possession of Tony was not going to be easy. It meant getting the cooperation of his parents. Both of his parents. Mrs Johnson wasn't too hard to convince since she knew about her husband hitting the boy and why, but Mister Johnson was another matter altogether. Oh, he still wanted nothing to do with Tony – he just wasn't about to cooperate with me.

A few days later the sound of high winds woke me up. After listening to it for a minute, I turned the radio on to see if there was a tornado warning going on. Less than a minute later, Tony showed up in my room, stark ass naked. I had bought him the things he'd need, including his own toothbrush, hair brush, and a few other things, a few extra clothes, socks and another pair of tennis shoes, but he had refused underwear, and preferred to sleep nude, anyway. Seems he had never owned any underwear, and was more comfortable without.

I knew Johnson made a decent living off the land he was leasing, so he must just be a real tightwad. That, or he was drinking or gambling it away. With the amount of money involved, if he wasn't just being niggardly*, he was probably gambling it away.

I'd have liked to get Tony more things, but I had to be very aware of appearances. Seemed everyone knew that 'Miss Martha's' heir was a queer, so I couldn't appear to be plying Tony with gifts. What I had got him were a few sets of nice school clothes, and some work/play clothes – the necessaries.

Tony came up to me and just stood by the bed. Seeing the fear in his eyes, I lifted the covers and he slid right in, gluing himself to me like a leach. We listened to the radio together.

As we listened, I became aware of Tony's cock stirring against my hip, and getting hard. When he saw that I'd noticed, he blushed and scooted his ass away from me. I didn't say a word – I just grabbed his ass and pulled him up tight to me again, then let go and started stroking his hair. He relaxed, but only slowly, when I didn't do anything else.

It turned out that there was a tornado, but it was over five miles away, and nothing we had to worry about. Our high winds were just due to a regular howler of a storm. But where there's one tornado another could spawn, so I kept listening and petting Tony, who soon dropped off to sleep. I had been growing very fond of Tony anyway, but this show of trust deepened that feeling considerably, and ignited an even more fierce desire to protect him.

I woke up to the the sound of rain hitting the window, the radio still playing, and with Tony still cuddled up to me – or again, since he was now gently stroking my morning erection. I tried not to let on that I was awake, but something must have tipped him off, because he let go of me and started to move away. I brought my arm around and gently firmed it around him, opening my eyes to look at him at the same time.

"That was nice," I said. "Why stop?"

"You're not mad?" he asked in a tiny voice.

In as gentle a voice as I could manage, I said, "I thought I made it clear that it was up to you – that I wouldn't mind? I've become very fond of you, you know."

"You are?" He sounded so doubtful.

I leant over and kissed his forehead. "I am," I assured him.

He was silent for awhile, studying me. I had no idea what might be going on in his mind, except that he was probably trying to make some sort of decision. I just laid there, stroking his back, and letting him think.

Finally he sighed, leaned into me, and laid his head on my chest.

"Do you want me?" he asked.

"I'm trying to get custody of you," I told him, ignoring the connotations of the question he'd asked.

"You want to adopt me?" he asked incredulously.

I hadn't been thinking along those lines, no. "I don't know. I just want you to be able to go places with me."

Tony was silent again.

"Where do you see our relationship going, if you stay with me?" I asked.

He stilled. "What do you mean?"

"What kind of relationship do you want with me?" I asked. "Father/son, friends . . . lovers? Something else?"

His silence didn't surprise me. This was a big question.

"All of them?" he finally suggested in a timid voice. "But . . . can we wait for that last one?"

It was my turn to think – not that it took long. "Sounds good to me. But if we're also going to be lovers eventually, I don't think I should adopt you, do you? I'd feel funny making love to my son."

Tony giggled. "Yeah, that'd be weird."

"Your dad's being stubborn, though. He won't sign the papers."

He suddenly shifted position, lifting himself up to look me in the face.

"You're already doing it? Without asking me?" he asked, sounding put out.

"You already said you didn't feel like you fit in there, and you were getting beaten. What did you want me to do – leave you here when I left?"

"You're leaving?" Tony asked with a hint of panic in his voice.

"As soon as I can sell this place and get everything else squared away, yes. So what do you want?"

Tony just stared at me, and then I saw tears filling his eyes, and spilling over. I pulled him into a firm hug, murmuring nonsense reassurances to him as I rocked him slightly. He clung tightly to me.

When he finally stopped crying, I hauled him on top of me – not for any sensual purpose, but just for more contact, to let him know I was there. I stroked his back, and even his ass from time to time until he calmed down. He had got hard during that time, but I ignored it.

"Okay now?" I asked softly.

He nodded his head, now nestled into my neck.

"Do you want to stay with me?"

Tony nodded again.

"So what do you think might make your dad let you go?"

He shook his head, indicating that he didn't know. Then he lifted his head up again.

"Wait . . . Maybe money?"

"What? Buy you from him?"

"I guess so. Something like that, anyway."

"What makes you think that'd work?" I didn't really doubt him; from what I had learned, his father seemed to me like the type who'd do something like that, but I wanted his reasoning.

"He's always doin' stuff for money. He even makes...." Tony suddenly broke off what he'd been saying, looking apprehensive.

Thinking back to when I'd first confronted Ed Johnson about Tony, I remembered the man's almost panicked state at one point.

"What? Moonshine? Drugs?" I prompted.

"Drugs," he whispered. "Meth."

"Does he use it, too?" I asked.

"I don't think so," was his faint reply.

Well. The man was smarter than I took him for.

Tony suddenly slid off me and started scooting towards the edge of the bed. "'Scuse me," he said, running for the door.

Probably headed for the bathroom, I thought. I needed to use it, too. I got up and put on my bathrobe, then went to wait outside the door for my turn. But it seemed Tony had been in too much of a hurry to close the door, and I got a very good look at his equipment. He was bent over, aiming his morning wood at the toilet bowl, and letting loose a light yellow stream. It was about five and a half to six inches long, and a little on the thick side. He was uncircumcised, but I was glad to see that unlike a lot of men, his foreskin pulled completely behind the head when he was erect.

By the time he'd finished he was almost flaccid, and he caught sight of me as he sighed in relief and stood up. He turned red right down to his navel.

"Nice equipment," I said with a smile.

He tried to push past me, but I caught him. "Hey," I said, "you can push it up against me, but I'm not allowed to look? That doesn't make sense, does it? Besides, I like the way you look!"

"You don't think I'm a freak?" he asked in a small voice.

"WHAT?" I roared. Seeing I had scared him, I demanded in a much quieter, although still intense voice, "Whoever said you were a freak?"

"It's so short and fat," he said, not answering my question.

"It's perfect, Tony," I said firmly. "You are not malformed. I think it's beautiful."

"It's supposed to grow some more," he said, trying to reassure me.

If he'd just turned fifteen, I didn't think it was likely, but it was possible. "I don't care whether it does or not. I don't care whether you grow more or not. I like you just the way you are."

Tony just stared at me. I wondered who had ruined this kid's self-confidence and filled his head with such nonsense. A freak? Pfah!

"Go get back in bed, Tony. I'll be there in a minute."

I emptied my bladder, brushed my teeth and ran the electric shaver over my face, then made my way back upstairs to my bedroom. I don't know who had designed this house, but . . . six bedrooms, and only one bathroom?

When I entered the bedroom, Tony was just sitting on the edge of it. When he saw me, though, he scrambled under the covers. I stood for a moment, wondering what I should do. Then I acted. I dropped the bathrobe, and let Tony get a good look at me, and the way my own cock was swelling as I walked towards him. I sat on the edge of the bed, and gently pulled the covers down and off of him, gently pulled his hands away from his crotch, which had been 'protecting his modesty' (more like 'hiding his freakishness', to his mind) then deliberately looked at every part of him, running my hand over his chest, his belly, down each leg, and up his inner thigh. When I couldn't go any further without touching his genitals, I looked in his eyes, seeking permission. He didn't understand what my look meant.

"May I?" He still didn't get it. "May I touch you?" I asked, looking at his crotch, and then back to his eyes.

He blushed, but nodded shyly.

I let my hand move up to his balls, and gently cradled them in my palm, softly feeling of each of them, then letting them slide out of my hand as I moved up to his erection, and running a couple of fingers up and down its length before gently grasping it and starting to gently move the skin of his cock up and down it, feeling the spongy hardness under it, and admiring the perfectly shaped head. Then I leant down and kissed it, eliciting a gasp from the boy.

"No – it's so ugly," he protested.

"Whoever told you that was lying through their teeth," I told him, and then let the head of his cock slip past my lips. I ran my tongue over it, memorizing the feel of its shape, its texture, and the taste. Tony's hands had found my head, but he was neither trying to push me down on him or pull me off. Maybe he couldn't make up his mind. I proceeded to slowly engulf the whole of him, bobbing up and down, and providing only a moderate amount of suction. I didn't want him coming too soon. I wanted him to enjoy this, just as I was. I wanted him to know that he was being worshipped – that he was worthy of being worshipped..

I started playing with his balls, and he opened his legs to give me better access. I moved my attentions to his balls, licking and sucking them, and runnging my fingers over his perineum. He opened his legs evern wider, giving me more access, virtually begging for more. And as my fingers moved back, his knees bent up, making it easier for me. I returned my attention to his neglected hard-on, found his opening with one finger and circled it. I kept circling it until he'd relaxed, then slowly moved the circle inward, until I was massaging his brown button. But I didn't put any pressure on it – I didn't try to make any sort of penetration. Not until I felt his balls moving up tight against his body.

"Mister Dahler...." he panted. "I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna...."

Now Tony tried to pull me off, but I continued my ministrations, speeding up the action, and now I was making small thrusting motions against his entrance. Not enough to actually penetrate, but enough that he could feel it. And when he shot, I thrust once, hard, the tip of my finger just making it inside. And when he was done, I gently removed it.

I sucked his cock clean, then moved up beside him and softly gave him a peck on the lips. "You're beautiful," I told him. "And don't you ever let anyone tell you differently."

Tony wrapped his arms around my neck, and then he was crying, quietly sobbing into my neck.

To say I was concerned would have been a vast understatement.

"Tony? Baby, what's wrong? Tony?"

Tony just shook his head violently, and held me tighter. Well, he wasn't trying to get away from me, and he wasn't accusing me of anything, so it couldn't be anything too bad, could it? But until Tony could talk to me, I wouldn't be able to find out, and all I could do in that direction was hold him and try to soothe him until he stopped crying.

In a couple of minutes the tears slowed down, Tony leant back, looked at me, and then buried himself in my neck again, although he didn't start crying again.

"You okay?" I asked.

He nodded. I couldn't see it, but I could feel him nodding against my neck and shoulder.

"Can you tell me about it?"

He hesitated, then shook his head a little.

"Maybe later?"

He nodded.

I was getting hungry.

"Think you're up to having breakfast?" I asked.

Tony pulled his head back again, and this time he was smiling. It was small, but it was a smile.

He nodded. "I am a little hungry," he said.

I was so relieved by that smile that I tightened my hug around him until I almost felt I'd crush him.

"While the breakfast I just had was delicious," I said to Tony's instantly brick-red face, "it wasn't quite enough to fill me up. So I guess we need to get dressed and go downstairs, don't we?" I let him go, smiling at him.

I cooked breakfast that morning: sausage, eggs, and pancakes, with orange juice and coffee. Tony put some coffee in his milk.

Afterwards Tony started gathering the dirty dishes. I squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him, then went and booted up my computer. Out here, all we could get was a dial-up connection or satellite, and I hadn't felt that hooking up satellite would be worth it for the time I'd be here. Dial-up tied up the line, but I didn't know anybody back here anyway, and I wasn't expecting any calls from anyone else, either.

I checked my email, answered the few that needed answering, browsed the forums I was a member of, and then logged off the 'net and played a couple of games. When I got bored, I went to see what Tony was up to. Since it was still raining out we couldn't work in the garden anymore, though truth to tell there was little enough to do there after we'd got done, nor take a walk in the woods.

I'd even gone swimming with him in the waterfall pool a couple of times. It turned out he'd been looking for turtles when I'd come across him the first time.

Tony was busy dusting.

"Hey, how about we go into town and see a movie?" I asked him.

Tony looked at me, his eyes brightening. "Really?"

"Yep. But it's gonna cost ya," I said with a straight face.

His face took on a small frown. "What?"

"A hug."

Tony grinned, and was suddenly in my arms.

I hugged him tight and on an impulse, kissed his cheek. "Need to get some nicer clothes on," I told him. He grinned at me again, and ran off.

When he'd got dressed this morning he'd put on a pair of faded, worn-out jeans, and a rather tatty shirt. I made a mental note to have him throw out those rags as soon as possible. But right now was for fun! It was a little early yet, so I thought I'd take him window shopping at the mall, then lunch, and then the movie.

I took stock of what I was wearing, and then headed for my room to find a nicer shirt. Everything else would do.

We walked around the mall for a while, and had a great time. I couldn't resist getting Tony an earring, but since I wasn't his legal guardian, it had to be the clip-on kind. He loved it. If he continued to like it, we could get his ear pierced later – if everything worked out okay. I loved the look of the gold against his skin, though.

We went to the food court and got an Orange Julius and a hot dog apiece, and sat down. Tony was almost beaming, but the morning's incident was preying on my mind. I had to know.

"So, you ready to tell me what set you off this morning?" I asked as casually as I could.

As I knew it would, Tony's face lost all traces of his earlier happiness. He was completely serious, now – almost apprehensive.

"You really think I'm . . . You . . . D'you really think I look – okay?" he asked.

"No," I replied just as seriously, looking to see if anyone was in earshot. The coast being clear, I continued. "I do not think you look 'okay'...." Tony's face fell. "I think you're beautiful."

Tony looked relieved, but his brow furrowed. "Why?"

I was stumped. "'Why?' Have you ever looked in a mirror?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. But...." he stalled out, evidently not knowing what to say.

"Take my word for it, Tony; you're a very beautiful boy." Even with nobody in obvious hearing distance, I didn't dare say what I wanted to – that every inch of his body looked delectably, mouth-wateringly delicious.

Tony dropped his eyes to the table. "Do you want me?" he asked again, his voice pitched low.

I debated with myself, but this time I didn't evade the question. "I would like our relationship to be closer, yes. But only if it's what you want, too. I've been happy just being your friend, too."

"And this morning?"

"Would you have believed me any other way?" I asked.

Tony looked up into my eyes for a few seconds, then slowly shook his head.

"Let me guess," I said. "Your dad seems to be bigoted against white people – so why he married your mother is a mystery – but you're the only one of the kids with light skin, so he loaded your mind full of bullshit. All his kids were beautiful, except you. Am I close?"

"Kinda – yeah. Called me an ugly bleached nigger."

"Yeah," I said sadly. "And like most things, you get told something long enough, you start to believe it. But it's not true, Tony. It's a long way from being true. Your dad has a problem, and he's trying to make it your problem, too."

"Can you say it again?" Tony almost begged.

I knew what he wanted. "You're beautiful," I reassured him.

Tony made an aborted move. If I had to guess, I'd say he wanted to hug me, but had remembered where we were.

"Remember, baby: a lot of people know the terms of my aunt's will. Don't want them jumping to conclusions, huh?"

Tony giggled. "Then you better stop calling me 'baby'," he said.

I hadn't even noticed I had. I'm sure my face got at least a little pink

I laughed. "Yeah, you're right." I leaned across the table and ruffled his curls. He leaned back and batted at my hand, grinning.

"Let's see what's on at the movies," I said, gettng up from the table.

"Can we go home instead?" he asked wistfully.

I looked at him, and was surprised at the heat I saw in his eyes.

"Plenty of time for that later," I said with a smile. "Come on." And if it was just gratitude, that would give him time to cool down. I didn't want him to regret anything.

The movie was a spy/suspense feature, and had Tony clutching at my arm several times. Even so, we managed to down a large coke apiece and a huge tub of 'buttered' popcorn. Flavored oil . . . I shuddered.

It took a little while for my eyes to adjust to the light after we left the theater, and if the way Tony kept bracing himself against my arm was any indication, he had the same problem.

We were outside and well on the way to the car when Tony said, "I'm hungry."

I laughed at him. "After a hot dog, an OJ, a large coke and a large tub of popcorn?"

He halfway glared at me, although his cheeks tinted a little. "I'm a growing boy," he defended himself.

I grinned at the excuse, but, "Okay, so what do you feel like having? Chicken? Pizza? Something else?"

"I had lasagne, once," he hinted.

"You'd like to try it again?"

Tony looked a little tense, and like he was expecting to be refused as he said, "Yeah?"

"Okay, then! One Italian restaurant, coming up!"

Tony relaxed, and grinned at me.

Tony may have wanted lasagne, but I was in the mood for a good pizza. Fortunately you can get both at most Italian restaurants – and it was a good pizza. Lots of meat, lots of cheese . . . Let's just say they didn't skimp on anything, and the pizza tasted like it had been cooked in a fire-driven brick oven. It cost a little more than the chain pizzerias, but it was well worth it for the extra quality. I was only able to eat three slices of the large pizza I'd ordered, though, so there'd be plenty for supper or snacks later. Tony had no trouble scarfing down his lasagne, baked potato and salad however, along with one slice of my pizza, even if he did complain a little about being too full afterward.

I laughed at him. "You're responsible for what you put in your mouth," I told him, ruffling his hair.

Tony jerked his head away, and then said, "So you're responsible for my . . . thing, now?" he teased.

I felt my blush. "Hush, you!" I told him.

Tony grinned, very pleased with himself.

The rain was finally starting to let up, but it was late afternoon. I'd heard there was a small zoo nearby, but even the light drizzle that was still coming down would have taken most of the enjoyment out of that. But I wasn't ready to go back out to the farm yet.

"Is there a skating rink here? Or ice skating?" I asked Tony once we'd got back into the car.

"You've got to be kidding," Tony groaned.

I grinned at him. "Hey, it's not my fault you ate like a greedy little pig," I laughed. Tony's eyes dropped, and he got real quiet, withdrawing into himself.

"Hey, babe – I was just joking!"

When he just gave a little nod, I reached over and took his hand. I didn't care who might be looking as I brought it up to my lips, and kissed it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, you know."

"Yeah," he said in a small voice.

"Am I going to have to get you off again before you forgive me?" I joked.

Tony turned red, and I saw his crotch swelling. Fond memories, evidently. He shook his head, and then gave me a tiny, sly smile. "Only if you want to," he said coyly.

Now my crotch was filling out!

I cleared my throat, my cheeks feeling a little heated. "Yes – well. Um . . . How about that skating?" I reminded him.

"There's supposed to be one here, but I ain't never went," Tony informed me. "Roller skating, anyhow. Don't know where it is."

I thought about it for a second. "Okay, then . . . how about bowling?"

"Don't know how," he admitted shamefully.

"Easy to learn," I told him. "Just takes a little practice, is all."

Tony shrugged, then directed me to a bowling alley. It was bright, clean . . . and full of league players. The other one in town had the same problem. You'd think they'd get together and stagger league nights so the public could get in, too.

"Well, looks like it's back to the pigs and goats for us, then," I said resignedly.

"Huh?" Tony said, looking at me as though I'd gone loco.

Well, it was true there weren't any farm animals on the property, other than some chickens the Terwiloughby's were keeping.

"Just my weird way of saying 'back to the farm'," I explained.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o

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