Scarlet Geraniums

(Part 1 from 4. Fiction.)

From the privacy of my bedroom window I watched him
work. It was not the first time I’d seen him working in our
yard. He was a cute kid, attired in baggy jean shorts and
cut-off t-shirt. His father had tended to our landscaping
for as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t until this year
that his son began to accompany him.

I watched the handsome boy as he filled the clay pots,
surrounding the patio with scarlet geraniums. He moved like
music, as if he was in perfect tune with everything around
him. My surveillance became impassioned, igniting within me
a flame that seemed to melt my love—struck heart. The
stiffness forming between my legs beckoned my immediate
attention.

Recklessly, I tore at my clothes until I stood naked, I
felt warm inside, burning with the hope that he would look up
and see me standing at my window, stroking my throbbing cock.
He was far too involved with the task at hand to notice me.
I watched him until he had finished with his work and ambled
from sight.

There was something different about this young man,
something that set my manhood on fire. My nuts tightened as
I imagined seeing him naked. The mere thought of his
slender, bronze body and jet black hair filled me with a
sense of overwhelming intrigue. No one had ever appealed so
thoroughly to the lustful preference of my skittish young
desires. My valiant lust peaked and my cock erupted with a
generous load of hot, sticky jism. With every spurt of my
hurling load, my longing to solicit the company of the
gardener’s beautiful son intensified.

A week went by before I saw him again. It had been a
week of agonizing erotic fantasy. By week’s end, I had lost
all track of how many times I had jacked off in an attempt to
appease my insatiable sexual appetite. Jacking off, while
gratifying as always, did little to curtail my urgent needs.
I had never wanted anyone so bad in my life. My body ached
to be near him. My ears ached to hear the sound of his
voice. My mouth thirsted to taste his male flesh. From my
window, I again watched him tend to the scarlet geraniums.

When he stopped to rest in the shade, I saw my
opportunity. As I approached, he appeared to be deep in
thought. He didn’t even seem to notice me. He looked so at
peace, I almost felt guilty for intruding upon his tranquil
solitude.

“Excuse me,” I called softly. His head turned and he
looked up at me through his dark sunglasses. The corners of
his mouth curled into a pleasant smile. My cock did a flip
flop in my shorts. Wicked thoughts of unbridled passion
surged through my brain like sparks from a short circuit.

“Are you talking to me?” He asked.

I would have thought that much would have been obvious.
He was the only other person there.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but would you
happen to know what time it is?” It was such a corny line.
I was surprised he even bothered to answer.

“Sorry, I don’t wear a watch,” he chuckled. I looked at
him more closely and was dumb struck.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

“No. Not at all,” I stammered, trying to recover from
the embarrassment of having made a monumental blunder...


“You didn’t realize that I’m blind, did you?”

“I’m sorry, but no. No, I didn’t. I feel like such a
fool.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you couldn’t tell. I hate it
when people can tell. You’d be surprised how weird some
people act when they find out.”

I sat down on the ground near him. His sleek legs were
smooth and well muscled. It was all I could do to keep my
hands off of him.

“My name is Chin,” he said, extending his hand to me.

Grateful for an opportunity to touch him, I eagerly
shook his hand. “Glad to meet you, Chin. I’m Pete.”

“Pete, I’ll bet I know what you’re thinking.”

I was quite sure he had no idea what was going through
my mind. My thoughts would have curled his beautiful,
straight hair.

“You can ask if you want,” he assured me. “I really
don’t mind talking about it.”

I realized before making a complete fool of myself that
he was, of course, referring to his blindness.

“Have you always been blind?” I asked. The question
seemed so cold. I felt bad for even asking.

“No,” said Chin, unaffected by my curiosity. “Only for
two years.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking?”

Chin took off his sunglasses and wiped the sweat from
his face. For the first time I saw his eyes. They were
gorgeous eyes; dark, passionate and distinctly asian.

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