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Subject: Title story: "Adam - 1" Author: Anonymous 50686619
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Date: Thu, 04 Aug 2005 20:17:07 +0000
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Adam - 1
Chapter 1
Adam sat in silence on the park bench, idly watching the ducks swim aimlessly
around in circles on the surface of the muddy boating lake. It was quite warm
for February, and the sun was shining with such intensity that he was forced to
screw up his eyes against the glare which was reflected off the water.
What was he going to do? How could he possibly not know who he was or where he
came from? If he knew what amnesia was (and he recognised the word as soon as
the doctor used it) how could he not know anything about himself? It seemed so
strange... to know things you were taught in school, mathematical formulae and
historical facts and figures, that Paris was the capital of France and that
Margaret Thatcher was the Prime Minister, and yet not know your own name or even
if your parents were alive or dead!
"I'm sorry I can't say something which sounds more hopeful," the doctor had
said, less than an hour ago as Adam had been discharged from the Infirmary. "I
can understand how lost you must feel, but rest assured that most amnesics do
recover some of their memory if not all of it."
Adam smiled wryly. "And some never get their memory back at all, correct?"
The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so, but the percentage is very small. Usually
their relatives identify them from the newspapers or through the police, and
once the patient is back in their home envi- ronment little day to day things
keep jogging their memory."
Adam wasn't encouraged. He'd been in the hospital for over a month, ever since
the police had found him, dazed and bloody from a head wound, wandering through
the streets late one night. The media had latched onto his case, and for
several consecutive days his face had been on more newspaper covers than
Princess Diana's.
But nothing had come of it. No-one came forward to claim him, the police drew a
complete blank, and, mysteriously, he had no form of identification on him.
After a couple of weeks the media got another more interesting story to keep
their readers happy, and Adam's fate was quickly forgot- ten. Depression set in.
Deep, black depression. Luckily he had made at least one new friend in hospital,
a young male nurse called Stan who always had a cheery word to brighten him up.
"Come on, sunshine," Stan had said one day as he dispensed his drugs. "Things
could be a lot worse."
Adam scowled at him. "Really? How?"
"Well, just look at yourself. You're a good-looking young guy, and at the risk
of making you big-headed I'd even say handsome. You've got a good body, even if
you have a cracked skull, and I'll bet you won't be on your own for very long
even if no-body turns up from your past."
The flattery had made Adam feel a bit better, but not much. He dreaded the day
when, inevitably, he would have to leave the hospital and begin to rebuild his
life, but where would he start? He had spent many sleepless nights, just lying
in his bed and listening to the other patients snoring, wondering about his
predicament. He had very little money on him when he was brought in, just a
couple of ø5 notes and a bit of change, no idea where he came from and no idea
what his profession was. His accent was also bland and unplaceable. At least
if he'd had a Brummie accent he would have known he came from Birmingham or
the midlands.
It had been Stan who had christened him 'Adam'. After long days in his bed he
had felt stale and unclean, and would have killed for a bath. When the doctor
arrived to do his rounds Adam asked him if he could have a shower, not a poxy
bed bath, something to lift his spir- its and make him feel human again. To his
surprise the doctor had agreed, as long as there was a nurse on hand in case he
needed help. Stan had been the nurse.
There were a couple of small private shower units just off the ward bathroom and
Stan followed as Adam made his way to one and stepped inside. Adam would have
closed the door and left Stan to wait outside, but Stan held the door open and
followed him in.
"Don't I get any privacy?" Adam asked, as he undid his robe and slipped it off.
"Sorry," Stan shrugged. "Doctor's orders. Anyway you haven't got anything I
haven't already seen."
Adam hung his bathrobe on a hook and removed his pyjama jacket, hanging that on
top of the robe. Feeling more than a little self-con- scious, Adam untied his
pyjama pants and let them fall to the floor so that he was naked. He was aware
of Stan's eyes on him as he bent to pick up his pyjama pants, and after the
initial flush of embarrassment he was surprised to find being naked while
someone watched was strangely exciting.
He was quite proud of his body. He had no idea if he'd ever done anything to get
in such good shape (that part of the past was miss- ing), but he certainly liked
the way he looked. Long legs, thick and muscular at the thighs, with pert tight
buttocks, tapering to a slim waist and flat hard stomach; broad back and
powerful shoulders. Maybe he'd at some time played sport professionally? He
didn't know.
He felt Stan's eyes burning into him as he turned on the shower and stepped
under the hot steaming jet. It felt so good, the water running over his smooth
flawless skin, forming rivers which ran into the curves and hollows of his
body and seemed to wash away his prob- lems. He felt hot water trickle into
the deep cleavage of his but- tocks, swilling over his anus and then down the
inside of his legs.
He reached for the soap and began to work up a lather. Still aware of Stan
watching him, Adam began to rub lather across his chest, ca- ressing the hard
round pectoral muscles and tweaking his nipples gen- tly. God that felt good!
His hands slid down over his belly, to the dark curly bush of pubic hair in his
crotch and he buried his fingers in the wiry hair, sliding his right thumb
around the shaft of his large uncut cock and cupping his balls in his palm.
As he smoothed soap along the length of his flaccid cock, his left hand moved
around to his behind, parting his hard buttocks, a finger probing for the lips
of his anus. Stan shuffled his feet nervously as he watched Adam, but Adam was
oblivious to him now. His prick was re- acting instinctively, swelling up to its
full seven inches, the fore- skin peeling back to reveal the throbbing silky
purple head.
Stan cleared his throat. "I'll just nip outside for a smoke," he said, as he
disappeared through the door. "Be back in a minute."
Adam hardly heard. His finger had now located his anus and was in- serted up to
the knuckle, gently moving in and out in time to the rhythmic wanking of his
right hand. It felt so good, so alive. He couldn't remember ever having wanked
himself before. Surely he must have? It seemed so new and exciting that he was
shocked by the feroc- ity of his sudden climax. His knees buckled and he arched
his back forward as he came, thick milky cum shooting in powerful spurts from
his cock, splattering on the tiles of the shower floor and being washed away by
the cascading water.
By the time Stan reappeared Adam had finished his shower and was standing in the
cubicle towelling off, his body red from the hot water and the rubbing.
"So how do I look?" he asked, tossing his thick blonde hair back from his
forehead, his blue eyes sparkling.
"Like Adam in the Garden of Eden," Stan grinned, admiring the young man's
naked form.
And that was how he got his new name. Everyone, doctors and nurses alike,
thought it seemed somehow appropriate, as though no other name would have fitted
the good-looking mystery man quite as well. Even Adam himself took to it, but,
after all, he had nothing better.
Eventually the day he'd been dreading arrived, and he was uncere- moniously
discharged from hospital, thrown out into the real world to stand or fall on his
own merits. He'd drifted around the town aim- lessly for a while, heading no-
where in particular, until he had found himself in the park, sitting here on the
hard bench watching the ducks.
"I thought it was you," a familiar voice said. He glanced to his left to find
himself gazing at Stan's smiling face. "What are you do- ing here? Taken a fancy
to ducks, have you?"
"Where else have I to go?" Adam asked, without self-pity.
"Still no lodgings, huh?" Stan sighed, seating himself next to Adam on the
bench. "What about that church hostel thing the hospital social worker told
you about?"
Adam shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I'd just rather not go there."
Stan stood up. "Then there's only one other alternative. You'll have to kip on
my couch for a few nights until you get fixed up."
"Won't your family mind?"
Stan shook his head. "I live alone. I have a small flat, nothing fancy, but big
enough for me." He smiled again, and Adam realised for the first time what a
pleasing smile Stan had. "You're quite welcome to the couch, if you want it."
Adam smiled back. "Thanks."
Stan's flat was nicer than he'd let on. The lounge carpet was thick and soft,
and the decor was more tasteful than Adam would have expected from his new
friend. The couch was a large 3-seater job, eas- ily long enough to accommodate
Adam's six foot frame.
Stan spent the rest of the afternoon settling his guest in, fuss- ing over the
young guy like a mother hen. His next shift at the hospi- tal wasn't until six
the next morning, so they had plenty of opportu- nity to talk, something they
had never really been able to do on the ward. Stan was warm and friendly, and,
Adam noticed, quite attractive in a bland, unexciting kind of way. He had dark
curly hair and equally dark eyes, and his complexion was duskily smooth.
The day passed quickly. In the evening Stan phoned for a pizza, which they put
away along with a bottle and a half of sweet white wine. Adam couldn't ever
remember having had wine before, but he took an instant liking to it and downed
so much of the stuff that he became a bit merry.
"Come on, mate," Stan muttered at just after midnight. "I think it's time we
both turned in. You've only just got out of hospital, and I have to be up at the
crack of dawn."
He brought a large bundle of sheets and a couple of pillows from the bedroom and
expertly made up Adam's bed on the couch. "There you go," he said. "I've a spare
toothbrush in the bathroom, the red one's mine, so help yourself." Adam nodded
unsteadily. The wine had really gone to his head. "I'll say goodnight then,"
Stan said. "If you need anything, just shout, okay?"
"Okay," Adam replied, "'night!"
Stan headed for the bedroom, glancing back just once to catch sight of Adam
wrestling with one of his socks. Then he closed the door, undressed quickly, and
slipped naked into his bed. It was late and it had been a long day, and to say
Stan was tired was an under- statement. He fell asleep almost the instant his
head touched the pil- low.
He awoke again with a start after what seemed just seconds. The luminous clock
on the bedside cabinet read 3.35 am. Something had bro- ken his sleep, some kind
of noise loud enough to disturb him. Stan threw back the covers and clambered
out of bed, creeping across the room and gingerly opening the door.
The lounge was in darkness save for the shaft of moonlight which was shining in
through the large window. Standing in front of the win- dow, one hand resting on
the pane and his head leaned on the back of his hand, was Adam. He was naked,
the moonlight causing his skin to glow an eerie silver, the deep black of the
shadows accentuating every curve and hollow of his muscular torso. He looked the
epitome of sor- row.
Stan opened the door wider and quietly crossed the lounge to where his friend
was standing. He placed his right hand on Adam's shoulder. "What's wrong?" he
asked tenderly.
Without looking up Adam spoke. "I just feel so lonely," he said.
Stan squeezed his shoulder in a gesture of affection. "You don't have to be
lonely," he said. "I'm here."
Adam looked up, and in the moonlight Stan thought he saw the glint of an odd
tear. "Hold me," Adam said, turning towards Stan and slip- ping his strong arms
around Stan's waist.
It was at that moment that Stan became aware of his own nudity. Their bodies
touched, Adam's large muscular thigh brushing against Stan's leg. Like a child,
Adam laid his head on Stan's shoulder, nuz- zling his face against the nurse's
neck. His breath was warm and moist.
Stan pulled him closer, until their stomachs lay flat together. He could feel
Adam's hard nipples against his chest, and lower, much lower, he could feel the
hot softness of Adam's large and magnificent cock pressing into his own pubic
bush. As he held the guy, he wondered if Adam even knew or cared that he was
getting an erection, his prick throbbing and pushing against the soft fluttery
skin of Adam's belly.
Stan let his hand slide slowly down Adam's back, his fingers glid- ing over the
smooth flesh. His first finger traced a line along the furrow caused by Adam's
spine, and Adam flinched just a shade, his hips jutting forward so that their
cocks rubbed together. Stan allowed his hand to continue on its downward path
until it came to rest lightly on Adam's tight hard buttocks.
Pressed together, Stan could feel that Adam was beginning to re- spond. The huge
prick was growing bigger, swelling to its full size, throbbing against Stan's
thigh. Encouraged, Stan slid his hand into the cleavage of Adam's buttocks, his
fingers exploring, searching, then finding the rough tight lips of Adam's anus,
which he stroked lovingly. For Adam it was an experience he had never known the
like of. The warmth of another human body next to his, the pure pleasure of
being touched as intimately as Stan was touching him at that moment. Somewhere,
deep in his mind, he was vaguely aware that what they were doing was "not right"
to the majority of people, but frankly he did not give a fuck.
Stan was caressing his buttocks, taking care to rub his anus gen- tly. Adam's
prick was now fully erect, as was his lover's, two thick hard rods rubbing
against each other. Adam felt Stan let go of his em- brace slightly, then felt
the warm wetness of Stan's mouth on his smooth, hairless chest, licking the
nipples, nipping them lightly with his teeth. Stan's tongue traced a silvery
line of saliva down Adam's body, taking a slight pause while he licked at the
hollow of his navel, then continuing on it's path towards the most sensitive of
re- gions. Adam gasped as Stan kissed the tip of his dick, then closed his eyes
and allowed the sensations to flow over him as Stan took his full seven inches
into his mouth.
He was a master of cock-sucking, his tongue working marvels which drove Adam
into fits of ecstasy. Stan ran his hot tongue around the swollen silky glans,
curling it behind the fleshed back rim of Adam's foreskin, exploring the dark
little piss-hole which was already drool- ing salty pre-cum which mingled with
Stan's saliva. Stan took the hard cock deep into his throat, pulling on Adam's
buttocks and pushing his face deep into the boy's pubic hair. The wrinkled sac
of Adam's scro- tum nestled in the cleft of Stan's chin, and he became aware of
a change in it's form, a tightening, the flesh drawing in to enclose the large
heavy balls, and he knew Adam's climax was near.
Stan worked harder, drawing the long shaft of his lover's prick almost out of
his mouth completely, then closing down on it quickly, tickling the thick veined
underside with his tongue. The boy was now breathing heavily, almost gasping,
until, with a groan that the whole town must have heard, Adam came. Spunk, thick
and warm and salty, be- gan to spurt from the head of his dick, filling Stan's
mouth and slid- ing down the back of his throat in a river of cum. Adam grabbed
Stan's hair and rammed his cock into his mouth with force, almost causing Stan
to gag and choke. And then the climax was over. Adam dropped to his knees in
front of Stan, exhausted, shattered by what had taken place. He sagged forward,
into Stan's arms. Stan's erection stood up almost vertically from the forest of
curls at his crotch.
"Why did you do that?" Adam gasped, genuinely shocked by the fe- rocity of
their passion.
Stan smiled. "Because I wanted to. I've wanted to make love to you ever since
that day in the shower." Stan leaned forward and kissed Adam on the lips. He was
pleased to feel the pressure as Adam kissed back. "Stay here with me," Stan
said. "Let me take care of you, at least for a while."
Adam smiled. "At least for tonight," he said, slipping his hand between Stan's
hairy thighs and caressing his erect prick. "What you just did was incredible...
I don't think anyone's ever done that to me before. I can't remember, anyway, so
I guess it's the same thing."
He began to pull slowly on Stan's cock, teasing the foreskin back over the wet
head then allowing it to retract again. "Don't be angry, but I don't know if I
could do the same to you... not yet, at least, but maybe soon..."
Stan smiled. "That's okay," he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of
Adam's strong grip as he wanked him slowly. "Just keep do- ing what you're doing
and I'll be happy enough."
Stan didn't take long to come. Like Adam he was highly excited, and it was mere
moments before his cock exploded in a fountain of spunk, covering Adam's hand
and dripping in thick goblets onto the carpet. Then they lay together, in each
other's arms on the couch in the moonlight.
"Stay with me," Stan repeated. "Stay here forever. Put the past behind you. We
can be happy, I know it."
Adam sighed. "I'll stay for a while, but I have to know who I am, where I come
from." He kissed Stan tenderly. "I'll stay until I can please you just like
you've pleased me, but then I have to go."
Stan remained silent. Eventually they slept, and before long morn- ing had come
with a vengeance. Stan left Adam asleep on the couch as he washed, dressed and
got his things together ready for his shift at the hospital. Taking one last
lingering look at the blonde Adonis on the couch, he let himself out of the flat
and went to work.
Two hours later Adam sat at the kitchen table, a blanket wrapped round him,
and studied the contents of the battered leather wallet which belonged to
him. Eleven pounds and seventy-three pence, a dog- eared bus ticket, and a
crumpled piece of paper on which was written a number... a phone number!
Adam's heart leaped.
Why hadn't the police or hospital staff noticed this? It seemed so obvious. He
picked up the paper and walked across to Stan's phone, lifted the receiver and
dialled the number. Nothing. Only the constant tone that told him the number was
unobtainable.
Replacing the receiver, he picked up the telephone directory, turned to the
front and started searching. After a few seconds he found it... 091, the area
code for Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. At last he had a starting point. It was not much
to work from, but it was a start!
He sat for a long time, staring at the phone number, wondering and fantasizing
about it. He did some serious thinking that day, and he made up his mind. He
would stay with Stan for as long as he had agreed to, but no longer. He had to
find out the truth about himself, he had to. He really had no alternative.
Adam's adventures will be continued in Part 2 ... coming soon!
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