Thetford forest
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The Other Side Of The Forest - Chapter 1 free porn video
This story takes place in the Enemyoffun DarkRealms Universe
Chapter 1
To all those prospective parents out there who wish to adopt a child; let
me suggest a few things. If you're planning to adopt a child to 'save'
your marriage, don't, it isn't productive. Trust me; an adoptive child
already has enough on their plate.
I would like to say that if you adopt a child, stay married but that's
pretty irrational, still it would be nice. Finally, tell your child as
soon as they are old enough to understand that they are adopted. Life
altering information should not come from strangers or bratty fifteen-
year-old sisters.
When I turned thirteen, my sweet adorable sister Nichole informed me that
I was not her real brother. Such a revelation was not really a surprise. I
am tall, thin and of fair complexion. I have been called a towhead all my
life because of my hair. My family on the other hand can only be described
as swarthy. Of course, explaining to my sister that she will be growing a
mustache before me, most likely tipped her over the edge.
Sitting in front of the large flat screen in the living room with the
newest gaming console, I logged on and began to load one of my favorite
fantasy games. Spending any time with me, people are quick to realize that
I have a fascination, all right an obsession with any and all things
fantasy.
My name is Morgan, which is cool though I am sure I was named after some
old English Rock band my mom liked as opposed to the sorceress that fought
Merlin. My sister, on the other hand, thinks I am lame because the rest of
the males in the family are more interested in football and NASCAR. I
disliked both. The hurtful comment that came out of Nichole's mouth
started because of that new gaming console.
I had just turned thirteen and my father, now living in another state with
his new 'young' wife, would lavish us on our birthdays with numerous
expensive gifts. Did he feel guilty, I'm sure he did, but I was thirteen
years old; what did I care, I had new video games. My sister was furious
because she was positive that our father spent more money on my birthday
than hers, which occurred a few months earlier.
While studying the different character classes on the screen, Nichole
stormed into the living room proclaiming that I had to turn off my stupid
game so she could watch one of her shows. Of course, that was ridiculous;
we owned four other televisions including the one in her bedroom. I
quietly laid down my controller turned around and began to tell my sister
what she could do with her show. I knew she came in to pick a fight so I
was more than happy to oblige.
Round and round we went. My sister is actually pretty smart however I had
long years of practice in pushing all of her buttons. Maybe in a weird
karmic way it was my fault that the argument went as far as it did but in
the middle of one of her tirades she suddenly stopped and in a fierce
whisper proclaimed, "It's not your television anyway, you're adopted;
you're not even my real brother. In fact if my parents didn't adopt you
they would still be married."
Like that old arcade game my dad used to tell me about 'Left hook, right
hook, put him away'. That took the fight right out of me. Quickly jumping
to my feet, I gave my sister a dirty look before searching for my mother.
I knew what Nichole said might be true and since I was now thirteen years
old, I thought it would be best to confirm this information.
Looking back it might not have been the brightest time to confront my
mother with this issue. If I had stopped and given it some thought, I
would have waited as I found her on the phone arguing with my father.
Interrupting her phone conversation, I quickly told my mom word for word
what Nichole had said.
I am not sure what I was really expecting my mom to say but it wasn't,
"Yes you're adopted, Morgan, so what, get over it."
Without another word, she turned around and continued her argument with my
adoptive father.
With that second knockout blow I stumbled backwards and put my head
between my legs to keep from passing out. After a few moments I looked up
to see if my adoptive mother even noticed, she didn't; too engrossed with
her phone conversation. So now a little paler and frankly not feeling very
well I stumbled upstairs to find my bed.
Several hours later feeling contrite, my adoptive mother came into my
room. She tried to explain to me that she loved me as if I was her 'real'
son. If I could come downstairs, the three of us would go out to eat for
my birthday, pick up a few books from my favorite bookstore or even a few
more video games then come home and have some cake.
Like my adoptive father throwing money at things would, of course, fix
everything. I didn't even have enough energy to fake it. Explaining to her
that I wasn't feeling very well I turned over to face the wall and hoped
she would go away.
Did I expect her to comfort me with a soft touch and warm words no; she
wasn't that type of person. Looking back, however I wished at that moment
she possessed a little more maternal warmth, some kinder words might have
kept me from falling down the rabbit hole. Well then again, maybe not.
Words are weapons; they cut as deep and can leave terrible wounds and like
any injury, if not treated they can fester. After my spectacular birthday,
I turned inwards, spending more time in the fantasy worlds of my books
than the so-called real world around me.
Did my adoptive parents try to draw me out? Not really, instead I found
new games and books thrown in my direction to cheer me up. Soon unopened
games littered the floor. After school, I would come home, lock myself in
my room, and read.
I would, of course, eat dinner and if asked a question I would politely
reply. No real feelings, it was all superficial. I no longer felt
connected to my adoptive family much less this world. Only when my grades
plummeted did my adopted mother go into action.
Once an honors student, I now gave minimal effort. I knew exactly how much
I needed to do to pass my classes. It became a game to see if I could
figure how many questions I needed to answer correctly on any particular
test to get the desired grade. Really, I had no intention of going to
summer school or being held back, but I wasn't doing any more work than
necessary.
At first, my electronics were taken away. I hadn't played on any of the
gaming consoles or my pc in a month so I really didn't care. Still no
change, next I was informed I was grounded and told to stay in my room.
Right, how is that punishment. Finally, my adopted mother went into my
room, took all of my beloved books, and threw them away.
Why in the world would you throw away books, yes that one got to me but
please donate them. Of course, this effort failed as well. Libraries are
wonderful places and I passed the old public library every day as I walked
home after school. As my adoptive mother didn't come home until after dark
she was none the wiser.
In the middle of all of this we moved, then again after I turned fourteen.
My adoptive mother's job moved us around a lot. Sure, she made more money
but it wasn't a very stable home environment. Nichole soon began to
complain about losing her friends so she jumped at the chance to be sent
to boarding school. I quit making friends so it was not a great loss. No
one seemed to be interested in sending me away as my adoptive parents were
under the impression that I needed their parental supervision.
Now alone with Rebecca, I began to call my adoptive mother by her first
name, I decided that I would give in a little. Actually, there wasn't a
public library within walking distance and I was getting bored. With my
sanity in jeopardy, I raised all my grades exactly one letter grade, no
more no less.
Rebecca was very pleased with her parental skills and removed my
restrictions. She left me alone as new responsibilities at work kept her
away from home. For months, we would pass one another late at night or in
the morning but as long as my grades were satisfactory, she seemed to be
content.
At the end of the school year, the two of us moved once again this time to
a sleepy little New England town called Skogshaven, some hundred miles or
so north of civilization. Turning fifteen and now in High School, it was
decided that a smaller town would suit me better. No, I wasn't privy to
that conversation. Rebecca had a long commute everyday most of it by train
but she seemed happy with the arrangements.
One bit of maternal concern did arise late one night as summer break
began. Nichole went to stay with my adoptive father over the summer, this
wasn't offered to me. Rebecca became concerned I would spend all day in my
room. I explained that I found this great park near the public library and
would most likely spend my time between those two places. If it was
particularly hot, there was always the condominium pool. Happy with my
answer she went back to her paperwork.
I did tell Rebecca the truth, for some reason spending all my time in my
room was no longer considered quality time. I had to get out, walk around
town. On one of my jaunts, I discovered the public library, an ancient
looking red brick structure nestled in a park right near the town's
commons.
The park seemed to me more of a forest, actually, with a few bike and
running trails all along the perimeter. One of the odd things about the
park was the lack of any trails leading directly through the center of the
woods.
Not dissuaded I entered the forest hoping to appear at the other end near
the shopping district. The short cut would hopefully get me to the
bookstore I discovered on one of my previous outings.
The first time I entered the forest it felt like I was coming home. A
unfamiliar warmth filled my chest, a feeling I never really felt from
living with my adoptive family. At first, I was confused and a little
afraid but I quickly settled down and enjoyed the foliage around me.
Visions of black knights, quests and dragons filled my head as I quickly
traversed the broken ground. Surprisingly, I ended up exactly where I
needed to be, across from the bookstore. I didn't really want to leave the
loving embrace of the forest but I said I would return and it reluctantly
let me go.
Small towns are great; the shopping district held all sorts of family
owned businesses as opposed to the super megastores from my old hometown.
Megastores are very impersonal, here if you entered a store they warmly
greeted you and it always seemed to me that they were really interested in
helping you. The bookstore 'Read Along' lay directly across the street
from the park and within minutes I found myself enjoying the smell of
newly bound books.
My first encounter with Diana who owned the store was rather strange. The
first oddity of many that would keep me off balance in the upcoming weeks.
Excited that I found a bookstore, I felt a weird resistance keeping me
from walking through the door but as soon as my foot crossed, the
threshold an unfamiliar voice squeaked, "Why are you here?"
Turning, I discovered a tall thin raven-haired woman with icy blue eyes
dressed in earthy colors standing between a pair of small bookshelves.
"I thought I might buy a book. My name is Morgan Rynders."
The raven-haired woman quickly backed up looking like a deer that was
about to bolt. "Morgan, that's a pretty name. My name is Diana and I own
the store."
A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between us before Diana
proclaimed, "I welcome you, Morgan, to 'Read Along', please feel free to
peruse my wares."
Nodding and quite confused, I gave a little wave and proceeded to find the
fantasy section. My further forays into the bookstore were a little less
strange as Diana began to question me on what books I found interesting.
She actually giggled when I told her I liked fantasy.
Giggled, do adults giggle? I don't think I ever heard my adoptive mother
giggle. Still walking among the many rows of books, I would often find
Diana nervously watching me.
Oh, let me backtrack a little and explain the whole 'Pretty' thing.
Remember the swarthy comment, well for the most part the males in my
adoptive family go through puberty like at age six. I swear some of my
cousins started shaving while still infants.
I on the other hand had not reached that stage even by my fortieth
birthday. You know that movie you have to watch in health class where they
explain the wonderful changes boys go through during puberty. My body was
absent that day.
A little alarmed, I approached Rebecca with this little revelation. She of
course looked nonplused and explained I would grow out of it. Grow out of
it! I wanted to grow into it. After enough complaining, she finally agreed
to bring me to the doctor's office.
The nurses happily took down the information, drew plenty of blood and ran
a number of tests. Less than a week later Rebecca and I sat in the office
of Dr. Kate Dunne positive that something was wrong with my body.
I couldn't help but fidget in my chair as Dr. Dunne acknowledged our
presence with a nod. I didn't feel any better as she continued to look
over my paper work with what appeared to me real confusion in her eyes.
Suddenly as if a door was shut, Dr. Dunne shuddered and her whole body
language changed. Leaning back on her chair and with a practiced smile
firmly planted on her lips, she happily explained to Rebecca that although
it was uncommon it was nothing that any of us should be concerned about.
My adoptive mother thanked the good doctor and literally dragged me out of
the office complaining that I had wasted enough of her time.
Since obviously my adoptive mother and the medical profession were of no
help, I thought of a plan to make myself more masculine. Taking up
exercise to bulk up, I began to run, which I actually found out that I
enjoyed. Unfortunately, push-ups and the like did absolutely nothing for
me muscle wise but I continued my exercise regimen.
On a whim, I began to grow out my hair, noticing some cool looking biker
guys at the local garage all sported long hair. Of course this proved
disastrous as I was now often confused with being a girl. At my new
school, a number of guys actually asked me out. When I explained to them,
I was a guy most looked embarrassed but a number of them looked pretty
angry. The less tolerant of them started a campaign to make my life hell.
Obviously, if I looked like a girl but was a guy by definition my sexual
orientation came into question. Pea brained individuals felt threatened by
my mere presence. Frankly if I was into guys which I am not, how in the
hell is it their problem.
Stupid seems to be a disease in most schools. Almost all of the abuse was
verbal which really sucked as the year went by. At least I managed to
avoid any real physical confrontation by quietly slipping away from
school.
Rebecca, of course, said I should try and get along with others. At no
time did I think about cutting my hair. Screw them I liked how it looked.
Now in a new town, those issues might begin anew but I figured I would
cross that bridge later.
After waving to the ever-skittish Diana, I made my way towards the back of
the store. If it wasn't for Diana's nerves, I could have happily spent
hours inside the store.
Look, I am 90lbs dripping wet, how in anyone's mind could I appear to be a
threat is way beyond me. With my head in the clouds, I stumbled upon a
girl leaning over some books in the fantasy section. Thankfully being
nimble, all that happened was a small stack books tipped on to the floor.
"Sorry, I didn't see you there. " While kneeling down collecting the
books, I couldn't happen but noticed the girl I almost tripped over.
Immediately I decided she was awfully cute in that green flowery sundress.
"Oh, that's OK." The girl stood up and brushed her strawberry blond hair
from her face then gave me a cheerful smile. As I passed the books back to
her our fingers touched and I thought she said, "Wow, you're beautiful."
but instead she said, "You're new aren't you?"
I nodded and reached over her head grabbing the latest novels from one of
my favorite authors. "My name is Morgan Rynders."
"Morgan---cool name like in the King Arthur story." She gave me another
cheerful smile and thrust out her hand while balancing her own small stack
of books with her other hand, "My name is Abigail Morris."
Taking her hand in mine, I thought I could hear her say, "I hope we can be
friends."
Diana however soon interrupted our little introduction as she literally
ran over towards us. "Is everything OK?"
Abigail nodded letting her hand drop. "I introduced myself to Morgan."
Diana bit her lip before giving her a half smile. "That's nice, dear.
Morgan let me check out that book for you at the register."
Gathering that wasn't a suggestion, I quickly found Diana ringing up my
books. "Abigail, sweetie, can you wait a moment. I need to speak to you."
Realizing that was my cue, I turned to leave.
"Morgan!" Abigail ran up to me and grabbed my hand. "Can I see you again?"
I could feel her distress. "Of course, Abigail, it would be nice to make
some friends."
That little statement seemed to absolutely make her day and she jumped up
to give me a big hug. Well that was a really nice surprise, besides
Abigail being soft in all of the right places, she smelled like flowers.
Stepping back as if it was perfectly normal, Abigail began to reach into
her purse. "Let me get your number."
I could almost feel Diana's eyes bore into me. "Abigail, how about we meet
for lunch tomorrow? You know that large oak tree that stands near the
library."
I swear Diana groaned when I mentioned that tree.
Abigail laughed, "Of course; it's a landmark, hard to miss."
"Great, let's say noon. You can pretty much find me most of the day
sitting under the tree reading a book."
With the time set, I got one more hug for good measure and soon found
myself meandering around the forest singing, "I have a date with a cute
girl---I have a date with a cute girl."
OK, maybe it wasn't a date but still Abigail was pretty cute.
Alma
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