Dylan - Walt Disney World 2015 - Part 3
We sat on that bench holding each other for what only seemed like a few minutes when in fact time had flown, and it was suddenly only 15 minutes before Dylan’s mom was to pick him up from Town Hall. “Hey buddy, we better get a move on, your mom will be here in 15 minutes,” I said.
“OK, but remember you promised to talk to my mother about Alexi,” he reminded me.
“I will, perhaps we can invite her to join us for the ice cream at the Plaza we planned on and have a conversation there?”
Dylan jumped up and exclaimed, “Yea, that is a great idea! Let’s go!”
We walked hand in hand down Main Street USA and just as we were passing the Main Street Theatre, Dylan requested a piggyback ride and I obliged. I hoisted him on my shoulders without even stopping. Even though we are happy at the moment, we both know that we are about to part for the night and maybe forever.
As we approached the Town Hall, I did not see Dylan’s mom or Alexi, so we found a bench to sit and wait. No sooner had we sat down we saw Alexi coming through the tunnel. Dylan said, “Where is my mom and why is Alexi carrying my backpack?”
I stood up and intercepted Alexi. Dylan stayed put on the bench. I stuck out my hand to shake his, and he rudely ignored it and said, “No time. I have an emergency, and I have been trying to reach Dylan all day and I am glad you are here!”
“Yeah, Dylan shorted out his phone on Splash Mountain. It got soaked and won’t turn on,” I explained.
“Figures, that kid is going to cost me even more money,” Alexi grumbled and then said something in Russian that I could not understand, but his tone spoke volumes.
He got back on track and explained the emergency, “Dylan’s mother is in the hospital, her appendix is about to rupture, and she is going to have surgery at midnight. I know this is a huge inconvenience, but is there any way you could keep Dylan overnight in your hotel room? His mother insists he should not come to the hospital and she won’t let me leave him at our motel. I need to get back to her, and I don’t know what to do with the brat.”
“First of all, don’t call Dylan a brat! He is a wonderful boy, and you should consider yourself blessed to have a stepson as wonderful as that boy. I hope his mom is going to be ok, but I am not 100% comfortable having him stay the night with me. To begin, he has no PJ’s, clean clothes and so on. Next, you guys don’t know me at all, how could you leave him with somebody you don’t know anything about?” I said.
“It’s not my idea if it were me I would make him wait in the hospital lobby and be as miserable as I am. His mother insists that this emergency cannot spoil his trip. The doctor says that we got to the hospital in time and there is no real risk to the surgery, so she wants him to have a good time and not sit around worrying about her. As far as you are concerned, she wanted me to find you to ask if you could help, so we looked you up on the internet and read all about you, your family, your actor son, the fact you are a lawyer and a children’s rights activist. Clearly you aren’t a fag, so what is the big deal?” Alexi stated.
“You looked me up and hoped you would find me at Walt Disney World?” I asked. “Yes, my wife remembered your name and we even tried to call you at home from the information we found on Google. We left you a voicemail message by the way. She also remembered what hotel you were staying at and we left a message there too. If we didn’t find you, then his majesty would just be sleeping in a hospital waiting room tonight.”
“Alexi, you and I are going to have to have a man-to-man talk when your wife is better. I do not like you, I do not like that word, and I don’t think you are treating Dylan in a way he deserves or that I think your wife would want you to,” I said. “Yes, I will take him for the night, but I want to talk to your wife tomorrow as soon as she can take a call. I have a suite with two bedrooms, and I will be here for two nights, I can take him both nights IF she wants me to as I don’t want him to have to be stuck with you.”
“Suit yourself, but I have no intention of discussing my family with you or anyone else. Thanks for taking the kid, but you are doing his mother a favor and not me. I don’t like you either, and I don’t think a man-to-man talk is going to do much more than end up in a fist fight,” hissed Alexi. “Just say the word, and I will take the kid with me now, and we will both be happier not to have to speak again.”
I said nothing. “Thought so,” he said then took the backpack and pushed it into my chest, making me stumble back a bit. “Here is the brat’s, I mean the wonderful boys, clothes. His mother will call you tomorrow. She is at Celebration Hospital, and I have put a note with her and the boy's address and emergency information on it as well as my cell phone number. Text me your cell number and hotel room number so I can give them to her since Mr. Wonderful destroyed her phone.”
I turned to check on Dylan who had not budged from the bench. I saw he had his knees up on the bench and his head buried in shame. By the convulsions he was displaying, I know he was crying.
“Maybe I won’t have a man-to-man with you, perhaps instead I will ask CPS to have a discussion instead. I will send his mother the details to the hospital to make sure she gets them,” I snarled in return.
Alexi broke back into Russian and punctuated it with “go fuck yourself,” so loudly that bystander’s heads whipped around to see what the commotion was and register their horror at such language in front of their children. “Never mind people, nothing to see here. Go back to your fairies and pixie dust,” he yelled even louder. Two uniformed security guards started to approach him; “I leaving, you cartoon cops can stand down,” he yelled as he entered the tunnel under the Main Street Train station with the guards in pursuit.
I returned to Dylan, who at this point had two mothers sitting beside him trying to console him. As I approached, I said, “Dylan, are you ok?”
“Oh Uncle Walt, thank you for making that mean man leave,” Dylan said through tears as if he knew exactly how to de-escalate the situation and avoid questions as to why I was taking custody of this sobbing and distraught 12-year-old boy.
Dylan got up, took my hand and led me back into the park. As we walked, I turned to the two mothers still sitting on the bench trying to process the scene. I yelled back, “thank you for looking after my nephew,” and I waved and turned back to Dylan and said, “you are pretty clever, let’s discuss this over our ice cream.”
Dylan was still recovering, the tears had stopped, but he still sobbed a bit. “I don’t know what is going on but where is my mom, is she ok? Was she just too drunk to come?” he asked.
“Yes, she is ok. I will explain over a sundae, I need to calm down too,” I said as I tried to will my heart rate to slow down and body to stop shaking. The “too drunk” comment concerned me, but I just filed that away until later. Like an onion, this entire situation had many layers and I needed to deal with one at a time.
As we got to the Plaza Ice Cream Parlor, there was no lineup, so we were able to go right up and order our desserts. We both ordered All American Sundaes, took them and sat at a table outside of the Plaza Restaurant. Most people were on their way out for the night, and we were the only ones in the seating area except for several ducks who were looking for food on the ground.
Dylan sat and looked at me not touching his sundae. I know he was worried and confused. I took a deep breath and started.
“First of all, your mother is ok. She is in the hospital and needs her appendix removed. They are doing the operation soon,” I explained as I watched Dylan’s face turn white. “This is a minor operation, I have had it done. They were lucky they got to the hospital before it was a real emergency. She is ok and is not in any danger.” Dylan remained silent and just stared at me. “But, she needs it done now, and she will be in the hospital for two nights to get better.” Dylan still stared blankly at me; silent tears started to stream down his face.
“Dylan, she is going to be ok. I would not lie to you. As I said, I had the surgery, and my son had it too. She will be on medication and will not feel anything. She will walk out in two days and be back to normal,” I continued to explain. Dylan silently got up, moved to where I was sitting and crawled on my lap and started to sob again.
This kid is breaking my heart. Why does he have to have so much misery at 12? Life isn’t fair, and I held and rocked him as I kept repeating in a soothing voice, “Everything is ok. You are ok, and your mother will be fine.” We sat like this for a few minutes as I watched our sundaes melt before us, but they weren’t important only reassuring Dylan mattered at this time.
Dylan stopped crying, and his sobs ended, but he remained in my lap with his arms around my neck. I saw from the corner of my eye the staff looking at the scene and then picked up a phone at the restaurant host stand. A sense of panic came over me; I am not sure why, but I was sure that they were calling security. About 10 minutes passed, and two cast members appeared at the host station, they chatted, pointed at us. One stepped through a door and called to someone as yet unseen.
Out walked Mickey Mouse and he and his cast assistant walked over to us. Mickey got down on a knee and patted Dylan's head. Dylan looked up and saw Mickey, jumped off my lap and ran over and hugged the giant mouse. Mickey hugged him and patted his back.
Mickey’s cast assistant, Shawna according to her cast tag, spoke to Dylan, “Mickey heard that you were upset tonight and wanted to come to make sure you are ok. What is your name sweetheart?”
“I’m Dylan, and this is my uncle Walt,” Dylan said. When Mickey heard my name, he jumped up and bowed to me, started silently clapping and jumping around. “Not that Walt, Mickey,” Walt said and Mickey did his aw-shucks hand gesture and mimed laughing.
Two Plaza cast came forward, one cleaned the melted sundaes, and the other replaced them with The Kitchen Sink Sundaes. There was more ice cream in those desserts than I can eat in a year! Mickey high fived the cast that delivered the sundaes, offered a high five to Dylan that he gladly accepted and then waved and walked backstage. It was just Dylan and me, two huge sundaes and a lot of ducks looking for a snack.
Dylan sat back in his chair, had a smile from ear to ear and explained, “that was amazing and look at these sundaes.”
“Let’s dig in before they melt,” I said and took a big spoonful of ice cream.
“Walt, why did Alexi leave without me and when can I see my mom?”
“Buddy, your mom told Alexi to make sure your Disney trip was not interrupted and does not want you to come to the hospital or stay at your motel alone. She asked if I could keep you for the night. We will both talk to your mother when she is awake tomorrow. Alexi was pretty rude to me, and we had a bit of a disagreement, so he left. So, it’s just you and me kiddo. Is this going to be ok with you?” I asked.
Dylan froze dramatically with his spoon an inch from his mouth and stared at me as a smile spread across his face. He jumped up on his chair and yelled, “YES! THAT IS VERY OK WITH ME!!” Again, heads snapped around in judgement at the loud and boisterous boy, and I turned several shades of red while Dylan kept saying “YES YES YES!”
Dylan regained his composure, sat back down and proceeded to eat about ½ the sundae as I picked through about ¼ before I felt like a beached whale! “What are we going to do now Uncle Walt,” he asked with a big grin on his face.
“I feel like I need a long walk to work off the ice cream. It’s Extra Magic Hours at EPCOT, let’s take the monorail over there and walk around and see the world!” I suggested, and Dylan jumped up, grabbed my hand and dragged me to the exit.
Extra Magic Hours are added to the beginning or end of the day at one park at a time. Today it was an evening at Epcot. This time is reserved for Disney Resort guests only, and they tend to be very quiet with walk-on ride access and zero crowds. We had to take the monorail to the Ticket and Transportation Centre and then the Epcot Monorail to Epcot. Getting into the park was a bit of an issue as Dylan was technically a day guest and was not registered to my room. A quick visit to Guest Services and clever excuse and he was added to my account, I paid for the extra admission, and we were all set.
The monorails were both crowded, so there was no horny boy antics on the trains, but once we got into EPCOT, I cannot say the same thing. We took the Friendship Boat from the Canada Pavilion to the dock at the Morocco pavilion on the other side of the lagoon. We were at the back of the boat, and there were no other guests on the boat. Both crew members were busy talking to each other at the front and not paying any attention to us. Dylan took that opportunity to be naughty. He was seated at the window, and I was beside him.
Without me suspecting a thing, he had slipped off his sandals, raised his butt off the seat and pulled his shorts right off and handed them to me with a cheeky little smile. Fortunately, he kept his underwear on, but here I was in an awkward compromising position with a 12-year-old boy, alone in his underwear. He knew I had to remain calm, so that is why he did it. To be fair, it was dark, there were no guests on the boat except us, and he kept his briefs on so there was no real risk, but it was constant horny behavior I found concerning and I had no idea what was coming. The boy seemed to have no boundaries, and he was using his body to get the attention he desired – whether that attention was actually sexual or just plain old desire to be close to a fellow human that he seemed to lack.
Quietly I asked Dylan, “please put your shorts back on!” Dylan whispered back, “We have about 10 minutes, please rub my boner for a couple of minutes, and I will put them back on. You can just do it over my underwear.”
I said nothing, did not move and stared at him with a look of panic. “Please, I really want you to,” he said as he climbed up on my lap without an invitation.
“What are you doing. Is this really necessary,” I stammered as I slid over to where he was sitting by the window to get away from the aisle to help hide Dylan’s state of partial undress. “Please Walt,” he whispered, and he took my hand and pushed it onto on his underwear covered boy package.
He was, once again, hard as a rock and he moved my hand back and forth over the fabric covered tube of hard boy penis while he repeatedly flexed it under my hand. As he did that, he moaned quietly closed his eyes and rested his head back on my shoulder. I alternated looks at Dylan and the two cast members – the pilot and his mate who were paying no attention at all to their two lone passengers.
“OK Dylan, let go of my hand, I will take over, but this is a real problem for me,” I quietly whispered into his ear that was inches from my mouth. I started by tracing the outline of his penis and testicles with a very light touch. I ran my fingers down between his legs as he separated them to let my hands dip as far as I can to trace over his taint. I ran back up to where his scrotum started where I found a tight sack. I lightly found each ball that was the size of a large marble, which leads me to believe that he is in the midst of puberty. “Oh gawd Walt, that feels so good,” he moaned.
Dylan was clearly in ecstasy as be moaned, ooed and awed as I continued to work on his scrotum and testicles. He was thrusting into my fingers as I teased him with very soft and subtle ministrations. While he was enjoying this attention, I too was rock hard and feeling very turned on by this cute little boy, his reactions as well as the dangerous and risky circumstances that we were engaging in.
Dylan started to squirm, and I moved my hand to work on his penis. He was 4.5” long I would guess and as thick as my middle finger. As I ran my finger back and forth along the cotton covered underside, he whispered that it felt like he had to pee. I assured him that he didn’t and started to jack his penis through his briefs.
He was starting to breathe quickly now, almost panting. He was going to have an orgasm, and I was super excited myself. I have never experienced such an erotic thing in my life; I felt like I was going to cum myself without even touching my penis.
I glanced out the window and sensed we only had only a short time left. “Dylan, we are almost at the dock, I am going to stop now,” I said. He breathed “nooooo,” and pulled the front of his underwear down and exposed his bare penis and testicles to me. Realizing he was not going to let me stop unless he had his release, I took hold of his naked flesh and jacked it. I slowed for a moment and rubbed his frenulum, a personal favorite of mine, and he went nuts and started to wiggle in my lap.
I was rubbing his penis and rubbed his tummy under his shirt.
His boyhood seemed to get bigger and harder as he kept humping my hand as I masturbated him through his Mickey underwear.
“I am going to have an orgasm Walt. Keep doing that, but go faster. Mmmmmm. Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd,” he whispered into my ear as I continued to expertly jack him off, twist his glans just a tiny bit and then down again. I moved my free hand down and started to rub his pubis, feeling the soft skin and the base of his penis as I lightly tweaked it as my other hand kept up with jack up, glans twist, jack down again.
I felt my own penis react under his butt and he ground into it sending electrical shock waves of pure pleasure through my own body.
I switched hands, and with the previous jacking hand I reached between his legs and poked my finger into his cloth covered bum crack. I ran my finger from that crack up his taint and grabbed his ball sack and lightly tugged on them causing his penis to twitch, his bum to gyrate against my penis in my pants and his moaning and cute little noises to increase giving me evidence that he was absolutely enjoying my attention.
“Sorry Walt, but I have to do this,” he said, and then without further ado, he reached down, lifted his butt and pulled his underwear down and swung his legs around to remove it completely! I was freaking out but was totally into this crazy scene. I glanced forward to the crew, and they were not looking back or paying any attention, but they were slowing the boat as we approached Morocco. All the while, I kept jacking him off with one hand rubbing his scrotum and boy testicles with the other.
Here was the picture. I was seated by the window of the Friendship boat. On my lap is a 12-year-old boy naked from the waist down. He has a solid nail like erection, and I am molesting his body in public. Jacking his adorable penis while caressing his most intimate areas with my other hand. He was gyrating and bouncing on my lap, and it was all I could do to not ejaculate in my pants. It was a scene that will play out in jack off fantasies until the day I die. It was hot, so damned hot, and I was so turned on by this kid and the danger of the situation.
“Are you almost done tiger,” I quietly whispered to him.
“I feel like I am going to pee, but it feels so good… I don’t want you to stop,” he hissed.
“Let it happen, just let go and let it happen,” I said.
As I said that, I felt his testicles being sucked up into his body as he exclaimed “awwwwwww” as the boat motor’s reversed thrust blocked the volume of his lustful exclamation. His hard nail of a penis started to pulse, and I kept pumping so he could have his release and enjoy the most wonderful feeling in the world.
As much as I try to suppress my desire for boys, I love helping a boy experience a mind-blowing orgasm. I try so hard to stay away from these situations, but it is like I am a magnet for horny tween boys looking for a chance to get their rocks off. It is a bonus when I truly feel for the boy as well. As much as my brain was saying no earlier, my heart and my crotch were both screaming yes!
I was doing my best to not “cream my shorts,” while suddenly I felt his biggest dick spasm yet and felt a small dribble of liquid on my fingers. He was grunting now with each pulse of his penis. Fortunately the sounds continued to be drowned out by the reversing boat motor. The little guy ejaculated, and by the looks of the premature clean semen, it is likely a very new experience.
His body went limp, his eyes remained closed, and he had the nicest smile on his face. “Um Dylan, have you ever had an orgasm before? Have you ever squirted before?” “Yea, I have had orgasms, but nothing like that one – it was incredible. But no squirting, I can’t cum yet,” he whispered as he regained his grip on reality.
I said, “look down at my hand.” I was still gripping and lightly masturbating his hard little dick, he looked down and noticed the liquid on my fingers. “Did I…?” he asked as I cut him off. “Yup,” I said. Now get your shorts on, we have about thirty seconds before we will be in the dock and showing the cast your privates. He slipped off my lap and grabbed his underwear; I said “no time, just put your shorts on and free ball it.”
I took his cute little Mickey Mouse briefs, wiped my fingers on them as he put his shorts on. I stuffed the underwear in my pocket as he put his sandals on. These innocent little boy briefs now had both my semen from earlier and now Dylan’s new juice as well. Maybe I will hold on to them as a souvenir.
Just as he slipped his last sandal on, the pre-recorded announcement played telling us we have arrived and we could now depart. I adjusted my still hard penis and tucked it under my underwear band to try and hide my state of arousal. We were both ready and got up, and walked to the front to disembark. As we approached the crew, they were saying goodnight, and Dylan stopped, shook the captain’s hand and said: “That was the most pleasurable boat ride I have ever had.” The captain thanked Dylan, looked up at me and said, “What a polite son you have.”
We walked off the boat and up into the Morocco pavilion. Dylan said, “now I have to pee,” and we went in search of a washroom. We followed the alluring aroma of funnel cakes and walked over to the American pavilion and found a washroom. We both went in, and each took a urinal and relieved ourselves and remained silent. I think Dylan was expecting me to be mad at him.
As we were washing our hands, I turned to Dylan and said, “You are a nice kid. You are as cute as they come. But you are dangerous. Very, very dangerous.” Dylan, assuming I was joking, laughed. I snickered too, but I was serious and decided to leave it there. The reality is that he may be dangerous, but I was not helping at all. My behavior was reckless, but this boy is having such an effect on me.
“Walt, thank you.”
“I mean it, thank you for the boat ride, for being my friend and taking care of me. This has been the best day of my life. I am at Disney; I met you, I had my first…. Um… you know what and most of all, I feel like you love me.”
He reached out and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around him and said “You are welcome buddy. I do love you, and I am so glad that we met but you know with that boat ride, we are even. We can’t do that stuff anymore, right?” Just then, another man entered the washroom with a boy about the same age as Dylan. They paid no attention to us, Dylan looked at me and said “we’ll see,” and walked out of the washroom with me in tow.
As if to bring me back to reality, my phone rang… it was my son wanting to Facetime with me.
- to be continued -