A Submissive Boy's Story

A SUBMISSIVE BOY'S STORY Chapter Two (the trip &more Henry)

by Donny Mumford

Driving from Lansdown/Pennsylvania to Winter Park/Florida, particularly in a pick-up truck, requires a lot of hard hours on the road. If you're making the trip alone, and you're a sensible person, breaking the trip into a two-day drive is a must, which is what I did. Just over the border into South Carolina I hooked-up with a Days Inn for the night and got myself a sixty dollar room, it was well worth the money too. My Freshman year I roared down route 95 straight through to Florida... determined to drive until the wheels on that old Chevy fell off and burned. I made it, but afterward even I realized how stupid and dangerous an endeavor it was... I had no intentions of repeating that macho move this year. So, a good nights rest and then the next morning, bright and early, I was in a Denny's restaurant waiting for their four-dollar breakfast special, my mind once again drifting back to my summer with Henry Black. If somehow it were possible to go back in time and do it all again, wonder if I would? Surprisingly, I think so. If I ever did get the chance to go back and do it all again I'd like to think the second time around I'd be able to admit the obvious to myself, that I'm gay. That way I wouldn't waste the next five years trying to prove to myself I'm not. Admitting I'm gay is not a horrible thought, quite the opposite. I'm looking forward to being openly gay this year at college, see where it leads me. I really should do some more reminiscing about that one gay incident in my life though, I might learn something about those two specific aspects of gay behavior that Henry and I demonstrated. I know it's called "submissive/dominant" behavior now, but back then I had no name for it, I just knew I liked it... it gave me such a buzz to be under Henry's spell. Henry was satisfying a couple of his fetishes along the way as well. Back then I'd never heard of the word "fetish". Anyway, without understanding why, I liked almost all of Henry's dominant behavior... I liked being submissive. Hell, now I gotta wonder if I'm still the submissive type five years later? I don't feel particularly submissive now, but perhaps by remembering more of our activities from four years ago I'll gain some insight about that.

I have a vivid memory of the morning right after Henry first fucked me. Waking-up, my first concern was my butt. Feeling back there around my bum tentatively and then goosing myself, it felt OK. I remember being concerned about taking a dump... would my asshole work like it was suppose to? Right after that I thought specifically about what Henry had done to me, and that image quickly caused my dick to begin firming-up, not a boner, just firm... it felt good so my concerns about taking a dump were replaced with a squirmy feeling in my hole that made me squeeze my buttocks with both hands. While checking out my ass, my mind jumped to thoughts about being Henry's assistant Eagle Scout and how wicked cool that will be... that made me stop massaging my ass and begin running my fingers through my hair, "say goodbye to your childish hair style Andrew, it's time for an Eagle Scout look, just like Henry's". I tightened my buttocks to see if there was any of Henry's cum left down there and sure enough there had been some, but the little extra cum droolings during the night were now a dry crusty film on my buttocks and inside my thighs. Feeling the dried matter made me think of Henry's long boner going way up inside me... and about how older boys shot a lot more spunk then fourteen years old boys do. Then, as I poked back there a little bit more I finally did feel a sore area down around my hole, not real bad, but sore for sure... and, just like that, all the sensations of Henry fucking me spread over me causing me to shiver at how new and wonderful it had felt. I couldn't tell Henry it had felt good to be fucked by him.. he'd probably be pissed if he thought I liked it. At that time in my life I didn't even consider that I might be gay. In my own mind that I was simply advanced for my age... I must have matured early and was therefore able to enjoy the sex-play at my young age that most boys don't grow into until later in their teen years... yeah, that's it. Being more mature is probably one of the reasons Henry picked me to be his assistant in the first place. It's funny though, my best buds never noticed I was mature, they call me "a big baby" half the time... they didn't get it.

Reveling in this elevated status I'd assigned for myself I felt like such a hot shit; like I'd pulled a fast one and got a step up on my peers, especially a step up on my best buds, Carlos and Billy. Then, remembering something else from last night, I rubbed the back of my neck and smelled my fingers... yes! there it was, Henry's strong BO smell from when he had me in that headlock. Breathing faster now, I rubbed my fingers at the back of my neck again and smelled an even stronger odor this time... it's as if he had marked me with his scent, like animals do... you know, marked me as "his boy", he did say that. Oh shit, now I'm really boning up... this is scaring me a tiny bit because it feels so good to just remember stuff from last night, should I be this excited about it? I flopped over and lay on my stomach so I could hump my stiff dick on the mattress. With my face in my pillow Henry's BO was stronger then ever... it had rubbed off my neck onto my pillow. My cock got harder and harder as I inhaled that scent... and then I felt dizzy with it. I'm Henry's boy alright, but I needed to jerk off badly just the same, so I flipped over on my back again, pulled my jockey shorts down to my thighs, and began stroking my almost five inch boner... ohhhh, that feels so good... the foreskin stimulating the head of my cock so nicely... "Ahhh..." a chill ran through me as I once more remembered the feel of Henry's long, hard, cock way up inside me, then a shudder as I stroked my boner faster. My nuts got tight up at the top of their sac and I felt that climax sensation overtaking me quickly so I threw back the covers, turned on my side, and "Ahhh ohhh" out shot a stream of creamy teen cum, up and over the side of my bed it goes to land on the shag rug laying there on the floor. Then drooling cum as I tightly stroked my cock trying for more spunk... it felt so good for awhile there, and then I felt real weak, drained, and very tired again. Pulling the covers back over me I realized that last night had taken a lot out of me and disoriented me something awful, and fuck, this is way too early to get up anyway... I need more sleep, badly.

Those kind of detailed memories came out of my subconscious mind so easily, it was very surprising. Driving my pick-up down route 95 toward Florida affords me the time to relax and remember that early morning, five years ago. It all must have been seared into my brain and held there until now... now that I'm able to understand a lot of it. I remember jerking-off that morning so well, and it actually made me smile because jerking off was such a fun activity as a young teen, so much....... shit!... a BMW cuts right in front of my pickup going eighty miles an hour and I needed to hit the brakes hard to avoid a collision. I got a quick glance of a cute blond-haired boy driving, he couldn't be more than sixteen... a rich kid trying to get himself killed. God, he looked so hot and damn if he didn't have the same shade of blond hair Henry had back then, and it was wavy like Henry's too. Ahhhh, it always comes back to Henry somehow. You know, I still don't have bad thoughts of Henry... I never had them. Not even bad thought when he started in with his conception of discipline later on, no bad thoughts because like I said, I'm honest with myself... I know that I liked all of it, or most of it anyway. I didn't understand a lot of what was happening when I was fourteen, I just knew I liked it.

I'm halfway through South Carolina already and my mind has been fully occupied with the details of the submissive/dominant gay sex Henry and I experienced together. I needed a break from all these memories though, so for the next few hours I concentrated on the music from my CDs collection to keep me company... and the music did the trick all the way into into North Carolina. The lure of Henry finally dragged my mind away from the music though, and back to that morning right after I'd accidentally sucked his cock... and all that followed after that first night of amazing things. Waking-up two hours after early morning that jerk-off, everything felt good. Laying there feeling refreshed, poking at my ass again tentatively produced no tender spots this time, not even around my hole. I jumped out of bed to do my morning bathroom ritual. No problems at all! OK! that was a relief, everything in working order. While adjusting the water temperature for a shower my thoughts were all about Henry again, thinking how I was "Henry's boy" and thinking that I liked the way it sounded... "Henry's boy". The concept of being "his boy" seemed so "deep", so secret, so adult, so important. I felt close to Henry, I really did feel special somehow. That morning's shower felt special too, and afterward I was feeling so excellently fine, so excited about my life... all was right in my world. Then when dressed, I took extra time combing my hair like Henry had it last night... can't wait to get this mop cut. Why did I ever think it was cool to look like a butch girl? It's a miracle Henry even bothered with me. Speaking of girls, I wonder who Henry's girlfriend is... bets she's hot.

Summer days flew by quickly for me and my buds... we played a lot of sports, went to a lot of movies, spend too much time at the Mall making fun of people and trying to steal things we didn't need or want, we played a lot of competition computer games too, and most of all, just did a ton of "hanging out" together... but I did none of those things that day. The guys did come around while I was eating a late breakfast and commented on the new way I'd combed my hair... not parted in the middle like I'd combed it for the last five years. I told them it was a new, more mature, hair style for me and that I was getting it cut short later today. BIlly goes, "It's about time, dude" and Carlos, always the analytical one asked, "Cut short?... why now, Andrew?" My answer, "I really shouldn't be telling you boys this, but last night Henry let it slip that he's promoting me to be an assistant Eagle Scout... and, for that important position, short hair is a requirement, that's all." Carlos mumbles, "I don't believe there is an assistant Eagle Scout position. Actually I'm sure there isn't". I huffed out, "Excuse me dude, but I think Henry would know if there's an assistant Eagle Scout position better then you." Carlos stated flatly, "There is nothing like that in the handbook. Didn't you read it like Henry told us to?" I hadn't and blushed a little when I lied, saying, "I've read it all, of course!" Billy muttered, "It don't matter if there is or isn't a position called Assistant Eagle Scout because no way that prick Henry Black would chose one of us recruits to be his assistant when there's a whole fucking armory full of regular Scouts to pick from. You lie like a rug, Andrew". We dropped the subject, they were obviously jealous. As for me getting a short haircut, they couldn't care less. Carlos has had his hair in a buzzcut for years and Billy's hair was always short enough that he didn't need to comb it. Hair styles held very little interest for us.

When I casually said, "Oh, by the way, Henry's fixing my scooter this afternoon, for free!", the guys forgot all about the assistant Eagle Scout thing and instead talked excitedly, all at once, about Henry's promise to fix my scooter. All three of us loved riding that thing and we'd been under the impression we'd never ride it again. Now this big surprise... my scooter is raising up from the scrap heap to illegally fly down the streets of our town once again, and with a better motor propelling it too. In a serious manner I told the guys. "OK, here's another thing, guys... do not be making fun of Henry's BO anymore, he's a good guy who works as a mechanic for Christ sakes... those guys have BO at times, ya know?". Carlos said, "Hey man, since when do you tell us what to do. We love ya bro, but you never open your yap usually... don't let that bogus assistant Eagle Scout job go to your head. Right Billy?" Billy said, "Oh, leave Andrew alone, Carlos... I'm cool with treating Henry righteous. I'm with you Andrew, no more mocking the BO boy. Can I ride the scooter first when it's fixed?"

That morning was passing quickly so I told the guys I needed to take off for the Mane Street Barbershop and that I'd be riding my scooter to show it off later this afternoon. Back inside my house I cleaned up a little, then carefully combed my long hair again, and asked my Mom for haircut money. She said, "OK... but get some hair cut off this time for a change, will ya!" I told her I was getting a short haircut because of the Boy Scouts. And then I told her about being an assistant Eagle Scout and she made a face like she was impressed. Henry is turning me into a big deal around here.. so cool! It was a long walk, but I got there fine. I'd never been inside The Mane Street Barbershop though, always used the closer Supercuts and always asked for a trim. This is another new experience for me. Inside the barbershop it was like an old-time movie set, big black leather barber chairs with white porcelain armrests and white capes with black stripes. The barbers were old guys and both of them were cutting older guys hair... old, older, and oldest, but I didn't give a shit. I was all psyched to do what Henry had told me to do... that's all I cared about. When the barber next to the door was ready he motioned for me to hop up in the chair. Jesus, that seat was wide. The barber put a strip of tissue paper around my neck asking, "How you want this mop cut, boy?" I said, "Regular taper cut"... just what Henry had told me to say. The barber draped the cape over me asking, "Boy's regular, right?" and he pointed to a picture on the wall of all types of haircuts. I just repeated what Henry told me to say, "Tapered, regular". The barber made a dismissive growl sound, mumbled "You need a boy's special with this head of hair" and picked up old looking barbers clippers. Flicking a switch and the clippers sounded menacing. Pushing my head forward until my chin hit my chest, then holding it there to indicate he wanted me to hold that position, which I did, the barber began. He pushed the scary-sounding clippers up the back of my head... way up the back of my head with the plastic attachment right against my scalp and near the top he flicked his wrist outward. With my eyeballs at the top of my eyes sockets I could just make-out our reflection in the mirror in front of me and witnessed the barbers wrist flick which sent a big clump of my hair flopping down onto my shoulder and slowly cascading back to fall at the barber's feet. My heart went thump-thump because I was nervous... I'd never had clippers on my head before, and also the barber is apparently ignoring me and cutting my hair the way he thinks it should be.

Big piles of my hair left my head... two men came in and the barber said, "this won't take long Arnie, I'll be with you in a couple minutes". Back he went running those clippers, now up the sides of my head. He seemed in a big hurry and quickly worked his way around to the other side of my head and then I could see his work reflected in the mirror again. I stifled a gasp at how little hair was left on the side of my head, and obviously how little was left all around the back of my head too. I needed to reinforce my resolve about a new hair style but, all the same, it was a weird feeling. I've had longish hair parted in the middle for many years and a boy gets use to his "look" ya know? ... well, that's gone now and since I'm Henry's boy I guess it's only right I have the look he needs me to have. The barber completed that initial clipper work in less than two minutes. I felt weird in my stomach somehow, and then my balls stirred. The hair from both sides of my head had fallen mostly onto my lap, gathered in the cape. It was astonishing how much hair was laying there... hair that just seconds ago was attached to my head. I'd kept my head forward with my chin against my chest until the barber poked the side of my head with his knuckles, pushing my head to the side so it was convenient for him to run the clippers there. All through the haircut I was completely docile, doing what he wanted me to do. Maybe I was too docile because at one point he said, "Sit up straight! Do I need to get the toddler seat for you?" I sat up as straight as I could then, way up against the back of the big chair which caused my feet to stick straight out... my legs weren't long enough to allow me to bend them at the end of the seat. I sat there sulking, but compliant, looking like a dork with my sneakers straight out from the seat. I was praying, "please dear God, don't let anyone I know see me like this"...

The barber was holding the clattering clippers while talking with Arnie and when he turned them off I let out a long sigh of relief. My reflection in the mirror looked so weird, so different! I felt the air-conditioned air all around my head on my almost bare scalp. This was very new to me and I took a big breath trying to calm myself, my balls rolling heavily in their sac, and my dick feeling stiff. I again reminded myself I was doing this for a good reason... Henry told me to do it. The barber didn't pay the slightest attention to me after he'd ordered me to sit correctly. He snapped a new attachment head to the clippers and then began cutting my hair even shorter as he ran then half way up the sides and back. By comparison, Henry's hair seems long to me now...it isn't nearly this short and, God damnit, I hope he won't be mad at me for somehow screwing this up too. Somehow I hadn't been firm enough about what kind of haircut I wanted, but what do I know of these things?

Pouting in that big barber chair now as the barber combed up large clumps of hair from the top of my head and, "crunch", the scissors cut through it all, with ease... more gobs of hair joined the pile in my lap. Oh God, this is short. He combed my hair down on my forehead and, with the underside of the scissor blade resting on my forehead, cut it short in front. He started the cut just over my left eyebrow angling up to an inch from my hairline on the right side of my head... long hairs fell free joining the rest of my hair in my lap. My balls kept tightening up for some mysterious reason, feeling odd, but good. The hairs in front of my head could only lay on my forehead now. The angle and shortness surely would prevent me combing the hair over. I was sure the barber was finally done, but he took some weird scissors out of his top pocket to cut more of my hair. I'd been in that chair for maybe five minutes... it was hard to comprehend how he'd be able to reduce my nice head of hair to it's current short state in so little time. These new scissors had teeth on the blades... thinning scissors I found-out they're called. Why he needed to cut more of my hair puzzled me and made me feel even funny in the pit of my stomach again. With no concern for my opinion, the barber began closing those weird thinning shears through my shortened hair until the cut hairs totally clogged up his comb... another big glob of shorn hair was deposited on the floor. I took a big breath... I'd been holding it from the moment he'd started with the thinning shears. It had been kinda OK until now, but this was too much, it really was.

That sadistic barber went back over the same hairs at the crown of my head a second time with those thinning shears leaving only bristles back there at the crown of my head... my cowlick was now defiantly standing up in the middle of it all... just like Henry's cowlick. The barber stopped at that point and actually ran the back of his fingers through the stubble with a rye smirk on his face. Our eyes met in the mirror and his seemed to challenge me to say anything... I looked down, breaking eye contact. This caused my balls and cock to twitch and move in my pants. Sitting there submissively, without commenting or complaining at all, I was almost hypnotized by my submissive posturing. All of this had my balls right on the verge of firing off a climax... it was sexually stimulating to a scary degree, but it felt good too. I didn't understand the reasons I was sexually aroused, but I did know I didn't want to cum in my pants sitting in that barbers chair. All I wanted to do was get out of there. I sat in a kind of weak daze staring at my strange reflection in the mirror across from me. The barber wet my hair and, roughly ran a comb through the short hairs on top of my head. The cowlick wouldn't lay down, and he wasn't able to comb my hair across my forehead either, but he was able to comb in a very straight part down the left side of my head.

"That's good enough, son" he said, as he undid the cape and absently dumped all my hair on the floor. "Don't go five months in between haircuts next time. OK, boy?" I nodded and paid him without commenting. Outside I couldn't stop feeling the hairs at the back of my head with my fingers... low down near my neck it felt like rough sandpaper, up near the top, at the back, there were longer hairs, but still... I felt violated, sort of. On the way to Henry's garage I stared at my reflection in the plate glass windows of stores along the street, gawking at my "boy's regular" haircut. It worried me that Henry might think I was mocking him by getting a haircut that's different, shorter than he'd ordered me to get. Always something to worry about, it seems. This Mane Street Barbershop haircut fascinated me, like a car wreck fascinates, so I continued staring at myself at every opportunity while rubbing my hand up the back of my head... with my other hand I played with my semi-hard dick through the pocket of my shorts. Then I was there, "BLACK'S GARAGE"... and I think I saw Henry for a second too, in the back lot. I felt nervous all of a sudden.

Heading to the back of the garage with a strange apprehensive feeling in my gut, and with my dick stirring mysteriously on it's own. I consciously tried walking very upright, almost "at attention". When I got around back and saw that it was indeed my mentor Henry Black that I'd seen a minute ago, I groped my crotch and bit my lip... what's this I'm feeling? He was wearing overalls like I'd expect a mechanic would be wearing. Henry had that serious, slightly pompous expression on his face, same one he uses for Scout meetings... he looked great to me though and my cock squirmed again. I thought, what the hell? Hearing me walking on the gravel, Henry looked up and did a double take. My face started to get red because all of a sudden I felt embarrassed about my haircut. I nervously tried to finger comb it off my forehead, without success. My eyes were big and damp, my mouth open slightly as I worried what Henry would say. What he said was, "Come over here, Andrew". He said it in his "all business" mode as he arrogantly stood in an "attention" position while I walked quickly up to him to stand right in front of him stiffly, at attention myself. He reached over and finger combed my slanted bangs up off my forehead... the hairs fell back down so he did it again pushing against my head in an annoyed manner, but the hairs fell back onto my forehead anyway. Henry, stepping back and relaxing his posture, took a Lucky Strike out of his pocket and lit it. Then, with the cigarette between his lips at one side of his mouth, he reached over with both hands to the back of my head and ran his fingers up the wicked short hairs back there while nodding his head with a smirk on his squinting face, the eye above the cigarette closed. His BO was very strong here at work. After his smirk, with the cigarette bobbing between his lips, he goes, "Let me guess, you got Anthony for your barber, the older guy near the door. Right?" I said, "Yes, Henry". He shook his head disappointedly and said, "This isn't the haircut I instructed you to get. Do we need to go together next time so I can give the barber instructions for your tapered haircut. Should I hold your hand as we walk to the barbershop? Huh? So you won't run into the street, like a four year old...?" He seemed sterner then he'd been last night and I felt my eyes begin to fill up at his sarcasm. I hate when my eyes do that so I purposely bit my lip to get my mind off Henry's rebuke.

Henry could really stare at me hard when he wanted to, but this time he saw my upset expression so his face softened and he said, almost pleasantly, "Ah, fuck it... Don't sweat the small stuff Andrew." That made me feel so great... talk about having a hero! Henry was mine for sure. My first hero ever was my brother, Josh... that was when I was nine or ten years old and it lasted for just a short period of time. I'd had other heros in my early teen years too, I had a tendency to become enthralled with guys kind of easily back then. My latest hero, Henry, stepped back further and did an exaggerated appraisal of my appearance as I remained stiffly at attention, my dick starting to get hard again. Then, taking his comb from his back pocket, the same one he used last night, he tried combing my hair across my forehead but it wouldn't stay up. He was getting frustrated, using both hands he mussed my hair up this way and that, he roughly finger combed the front hairs over across the front of my head only to see them lazily fall back to lay goofily on my forehead . Henry's face was getting dark pink. I didn't make a sound, just squinted my eyes as his ubiquitous cigarette smoke created sort of a fog which surrounded the two of us. Finally he took a big inhale of air through his nose and mumbled, "You know what, I think I like this, Andrew. This extra short boys-regular haircut. Maybe this is the right haircut for my assistant after all, it shows you take my orders seriously. So, good job. This will be your haircut from now on. Keep it crisp looking, get it cut every ten days or so like Marines do". Holy shit, every ten days? But aside from that, this was an unexpected compliment. I tried not to smile with the pleasure of it, mumbling, "Thank you, Henry. It wasn't what I thought the...." but Henry took two or three quick breaths and said, "Later with that, follow me".

What now? I followed him into a small lavatory which seemed incredible clean for an auto garage toilet. The door for the lavatory was along side the back garage entrance and a sign hung on it reading "EMPLOYEES ONLY". Inside he locked the door behind us and, seemingly out of breath, he muttered, "Dad's gone home early and Gene's out on road service calls so we got a few minutes." He dropped his cigarette butt in the toilet and began lighting two new Lucky Strike cigarettes mumbling around the two filters, "Pull your pants down. Here, smoke this too." I go, "Do ya mean... you know, we're...?" Henry seemed angry, "Please just do it quickly, don't question it." I was thinking, Damn!... just a second ago he'd said, "good job" to me and now I got him pissed off again. I took the cigarette and put it between my lips, then quickly pulled my shorts and underpants down to my knee like last night. Henry blew a long exhale of smoke in my face and said, "That blow-job you gave me last night has me all fucked-up, Andrew Fisher... you can understand why it would, can't you?" He fondled my balls with my firm dick bouncing off the back of his hand. I went, "Ah ohh" and though, "my dick has been mostly firmed-up ever since I met Henry. Feels good!" The cigarette smoke from our two cigarettes was a hazy cloud hanging around us in this small enclosed little room with no window or air vent. I inhaled the smoke and a little of Henry's BO together and holy shit, it all felt sexy and very adult. It was hot in that small space, sweat was beginning to run down our faces.

Henry smoked his cigarette with long drags as he squeezed my nuts too hard, like maybe he was mad at me. I squeaked out, "Eeeee", which resulted in another squeeze of my nuts a bit harder than the first. Closing my eyes tightly, clenching my mouth and grunting, I continued standing at attention for my mentor. When I opened them he was staring at me with those incredible dark blue eyes moving mysteriously, he did a long exhale through his nose with a stream of tobacco smoke escaping each nostril, then he ordered sternly, "Smoke that cigarette, Andrew... don't just hold it." After he'd poured a lot more exhaled smoke into that closet-sized room, in a very matter-of-fact voice he said, "Turn around and grab the rim of the sink". Before I could move he goes, "No, wait... first step out of one of your pant leg so you can spread your legs wide" As I hurried to comply with that order, Henry unzipped his greasy work overalls and whipped out his long cock, he didn't even pull his pants down. When I was turned around, holding the sink, he began sliding his cock up and down the crack between my buttocks with me getting turned-on with anticipation and taking deep puffs off my cigarette, which I'd clasped between my teeth. I was trying hard not to inhale the smoke, just suck on the filter and then blow the smoke out. Henry, breathing roughly said, "Best thing for you is probably a little discipline, not me continuing being soft with you like I was last night. You need some spankings, you ready for that discipline, Andrew?" I said, "Yes, Henry" and he goes, "We'll see about that. Get your twat up higher... always remember I'm much taller than you and I need that twat of yours up as high as you can get it. We're not doing this to please you... that's what you don't seem to comprehend" and he smacked my ass hard as I strained to keep my ass up as high as I could, up on my toes. His smack on my ass caught me by surprise and I yelped, cigarette smoke caught in my throat and I had a coughing fit. He smacked my ass twice more. God damnit!, those smacks stung! Yes, they did, but my dick was getting harder in spite of it.

It's crazy maybe, but even with the stern way he was treating me in the tiny lavatory, the smacks on my ass and all that, at the time I still admired how he was handling the situation between us and I was sure he knew what he was doing... he needed to be a little rougher with me so I'd get tougher too. I had read something along those lines someplace, or heard it from somebody. Henry's been in Military Prep Schools since sixth grade, that'd be five or six years of military training so far... he isn't about to put up with whiny behavior. I was sure he knew what he was doing, but I was glad he stopped smacking my ass just the same. As for him fucking me, even at fourteen I realized that getting fucked is sort of humiliating... but part of getting fucked by Henry was that feeling I got in my hole, the one that traveled from my hole all over my body, the greatest feeling I'd ever felt, and it generated the best climax I ever had too.... so, the humiliation part was secondary. Also there was something else, a feeling that in Henry I had a mature someone, who wasn't a full-fledged adult, to look out and take care of me when I needed it, sort of be my body guard, and my guide in life too... because he's experienced so much more of life than I had.

After the smacks on my ass Henry flicked his cigarette butt into the toilet and I let mine drop from my teeth down into the toilet bowl also. I watched them float around in the blue water, this little lavatory sparkled. Henry appeared finished with my spanking and, with me still bent over holding onto the impossibly shiny rim of the sink, he squeezed the back of my neck, then rubbed all over my shorn head and said, "I like the feel of your short hair, and you have a real good little body too. You're OK, Andrew". Man, that made me feel good. He gripped my hips then, and without any foreplay or warning, humped his dry cock up inside me about two inches, me holding tightly to the sink to keep from falling forward, my hole really hurting this time. Much more then last night when the head of his cock had been dripping with precum. During this fuck Henry didn't appear nearly as concerned about how I was doing. This afternoon he pushed his boner, inch by inch, all the way up my ass until his balls lay on my buttocks. That took a minute or so and I grunted with every inch of progress, but I didn't cry out or whine... my goal was to get Henry to say, "Good job" like he had a couple minutes ago. I wanted so much to please him. Henry was breathing loudly and mumbling things in between his deep breathing, "Oh yeah Henry... you the man, dude... fuck him ... fuck that twat hard, Henry" he mumbled other stuff that I couldn't hear. My guess back then was that Henry was encouraging himself to do a good job for both of us... after all, the whole purpose of all this is to eventually correct the mess created by my accidental gay blow-job of him... something like that, I'd already forgotten how it was suppose to work.

This fuck did hurt though, and a long groan finally escaped my lips. Henry said nothing, instead he smacked my bare ass again, and boy! did that ever sting! I couldn't believe a smack on my ass would sting like that. Biting my teeth together hard I refused to let out another groan... I went back to subtle grunts and breathing through my nose nosily like Henry often does. When he was all the way inside me, he pulled his cock out about six inches and rammed it back in... both were painful movements for me, but the next thrust was easier to take as some lube was being generated from some place, maybe his precum had arrived. When he got going with regular, I'd guess about six inch strokes, it started feeling good to me again and now I needed to grind my teeth together, but not to stifle a groan, this time I needed to stifle a moan of pleasure. And the feeling in my ass, my whole body, cock, nuts, you name it... the feeling got better and better the faster he fucked me. By now Henry had both his hands on my shoulders so he could pull me back into his thrusts, he hammered my ass and slammed his crotch against my buttocks making the same smacking sound it had made last night. I was back to going, "Oof. Oof, Oof" with every thrust, thrust, thrust... it felt fantastic. Spit ran down my chin as I quietly mumbled to myself, "yes Henry... yes Henry... yes Henry..." with each slam up my ass. Henry had stopped his chant and was grunting now, "Ahh! Ohhh! oh Ah! Ah!" and then he collapsed on my back doing short, very-fast humps against my buttocks. In two seconds he squealed a high pitch sound and creamy cum began rolling out past his cock and around my ass cheeks and down the inside of my legs. Henry made loud breathing noises after his squeal, I assumed he wanted to keep things quiet because we were here in this little BO bathroom and could probably be heard in the garage, and outside the door... you know, if anyone was there. He kept pumping my hole, quiet now, only sound I heard was a squishy noise from the cum splattering around us with every hump of Henry's long cock up my ass.

The thought of him spunking up inside me sent me over the top... right after Henry's squeal I literally peed cum out my boner's pee slit... it was like I was taking a piss only it was cum and, oh my God, did it ever feel erotically hot! My lazy stream of cum traveled just far enough to miss the back of the toilet bowl and plop against the raised seat, then it drooled down to pool at the back edge of the toilet. This was the strangest sensation I'd ever felt in my dick, uniquely erotic and I couldn't help but let out a fairly loud, "Eeeeeeee! Hennnnnry! Ohhhhhh! Ahh" and Henry smacked my ass hard, hissing, "Keep it down! Don't ya know that Gene or a customer could be in the back lot by now ?". I yelped quietly from the smack on my ass thinking that Henry's own squeal had been about as loud as mine... but I forgot about that because oh my, the feeling of my climax, awesome! More cum dripped down from my dick to splat into the water of the toilet bowl with me scrunching my face from the pleasure of it all. It was my second climax of the day... I'd had the one around six AM when I jerked-off thinking about Henry, and now this one around two PM with Henry actually doing it to me. It really was wild, and sensational, and I wished it could happened again right that minute. I was feeling really warm, maybe my ass was red too after those smacks, but I was also congratulating myself on these hot climaxes. After a bit Henry stage whispered, "Act tougher Andrew, stop that whining every time I spank you. OK? Try to keep your voice down in the future too, OK? Other than those two things, you did a good job accepting this fuck." I whispered back at him, "Oh thank you Henry, I'm sorry for shouting, but please, don't spank me any more... I'll be quiet" I thought I heard a snicker as he gave me one more killer smack on my upper thigh... I saw stars, but I didn't let a peep out. The spanking sort of cut short the great after-shock feelings I usually get from climaxing, which is a shame, but I needed to remember what Henry had said about this being for his benefit, not mine. ... and then I had a thought that maybe that's the whole idea of the spankings too... to prevent me from getting too much enjoyment from being fucked by a man. Maybe Henry actually knows what he's doing after all. He's training me not to have queer feelings about a man fucking me. It made me feel even more admiration for him, understanding why I was being spanked and all... it was for my own benefit. Jeez, I'm getting better at figuring things out... guess I am maturing. Another example of the kind of dumb thinking I did a lot of at fourteen years old... Damn!

We got ourselves put back together without anymore discussion about anything. Henry seemed drained, with good reason too... I'll tell you, that boy generates a lot of cum. Thinking back on it I remember wondering if I'd ever be firing off that much spunk, even when I was almost nineteen like Henry was? I remember feeling kind of weak back then too... probably all the emotion and adrenaline expended from the dominant manner in which Henry fucked my ass had caught up with me... he fucked my ass like he owned it. Maybe the most amazing thing to me back then continued to be the feeling of wonder at how excellent it actually felt to be fucked, so hot and beyond belief, so wonderful... such a high. But, I was a bit wiped-out though... after all, I'd managed to cum twice that day with big loads both times... obviously the dominance demonstrated, first by the barber cutting my hair wicked short, and then, of course, Henry fucking my brains out was a tremendous amount of stimulation for my body to deal with... especially as it was concentrated in less than a half hour period. To take that theme further... include the fucking and cock sucking from last night, and me jerking off this morning... and jeez! I'd experienced a ton of new stimulations, and all of it within the last eighteen hours or so. I was pretty much exhausted by it all.

Outside, Henry mumbled, "It's stressful that I need to take time and energy away from work to service you, but I promised I'd get us both back to being OK, and that's what I'll do. If I get a little rough with you sometimes Andrew, it's just that I'm merely trying to hurry the process along, that's all. You dig?" I go, "Yes, sir.. er Yes, Henry!" and just as I said that, the "Black's Garage" tow truck pulled into the yard and a guy with "GENE" stitched on his overall's pocket jumped out the drivers side. Henry said to the guy, "I gotta get something with this kid, Gene. I'll be about twenty minutes." Henry and I got in a truck, a Toyota pickup and drove to my house. All the way there Henry's cum drooled out of my hole wetting through the back of my cargo shorts. I had to run into my house when we got home to change underpants and shorts. Then Henry lifted the motor scooter into the back of the pick-up and drove us back to the garage. With me fetching whatever tool Henry needed, he put a new motor on my scooter. In about an hour I was riding that thing home with a sore bum, but not caring about that because I got my scooter back and it goes faster than it ever went before. Excellent! At home I needed to change my underpants again, more of Henry's cum had wet through the second dry pair by then. I changed my underpants, but my cargo shorts were OK so I was good to go and off I went to show off the scooter to Carlos and Billy..

Back then everything seemed so cool to me... the older teen sex stuff, a new motor for my scooter, assistant Eagle Scout duties, being Henry's personal "project"... it was all great stuff for me at fourteen. I was so taken with Henry by then, I loved being dominated by him... I loved his body oder, I even liked it on me. I decided I'd skip showers for a few days, and no deodorant at all. I really wanted to be like Henry. Looking in my bathroom mirror I saw that what was left of my light brown hair was cut pretty much like Henry's, a lot shorter, but sort of like his. I had brown eyes though, not blue ones like Henry had. If only there was a way I could chip my front tooth... wouldn't that be cool, Henry and me with the same chip out of the same tooth. Thinking about Henry had me looking forward to Monday night, my first Scout meeting as Henry's assistant. And looking forward also to whatever Henry felt was necessary after the meeting... my dick moved at that thought. Then I tried to imitate Henry's smirk in the mirror as I thought about the regular Scouts, and how they'd be more jealous about my promotion then even the recruits. HA! I smelled my hands but couldn't detect Henry's BO smell today.

My new haircut initially got some attention at home, also from Carlos and Billie too. Then it was all about the new scooter motor. Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday we rode that scooter until I wasn't the only boy with a sore ass. A great time and we toasted Henry with bottles of coke twice in one day. Then, at the Boy Scout meeting Monday night, in front of all the regular Scouts and the recruits, Henry made a big deal out of me being promoted to his assistant. He didn't use the term "Assistant Eagle Scout", but even just being his assistant was special and the big fuss he made of it embarrassed me a little. Well first of all, earlier in the evening, Henry brought in his old Scout uniform. The original one he wore as a recruit, and made me wear it. I had to roll-up the pants and the sleeves. It looked silly, but Henry didn't see it that way. He made sure it was properly worn by me, rolled-up sleeves and pants not withstanding. After the pompous announcement of my promotion, he had me stand at attention in front of all those boys while he, with a pointer, pointed out the various points of interest in the uniform I was wearing... where the zipper lines up with the button of the shirt and how the pants are worn exactly on the hips and how the insignias should be displayed and a half dozen other things. He actually touched the tip of the pointer all along my zipper causing the other boys to giggle and mumble smartass remarks until Henry threaten to assign everyone to ten laps if they didn't quiet down. Lastly he used the pointer to highlight my new haircut indicating preferred lengths for a Boy Scouts' haircut at various places on my head. He finger combed the hair off my forehead again, but it fell back down immediately with Henry pursing his lips together in disgust. When I thought I'd feint from humiliation Henry took it up a notch and had me do a number of "Yes, Sir!" to him in front of the group to illustrate proper protocol when addressing your "betters" which had the boys giggling and mumbling again. Henry dismissed the group and then admitted to me he didn't understand why the boys were giggling at the "your betters" comment. It was pretty obvious to me, but I didn't feel I could correct Henry because even though the other boys didn't feel Henry was their "better", I did. I was captivated by him. He had me join him in the little office reserved for Eagle Scout leadership boys like Henry. Inside, he sat with his legs crossed at the knees like before and instructed me on various responsibilities he expected me to do. Henry was my idol, but he did cross his legs in an unusual manner and he most definitely didn't have a feel for the common man, so ta speak.

He didn't assign me major responsibilities, I was to take attendance at the beginning and end of meetings and be here at the meetings one half hour before everyone else, including Henry, so I could insure that this little office was presentable for Henry. He explained, "Some of the Eagle Scout leadership group have no business being in the program, Andrew. They'll leave filled ashtrays or empty cups, whatever, here on the desk. Your responsibility is to get this place cleaned up for my arrival." Also, I was to do the clean-up at the end of the meetings. Something that Henry used to be responsible for. He was so pompous when acting the role of Eagle Scout, many would think him a jerk, but his pretentious behavior got me really hard. He sent me for his coffee and sodas and gave me inspections three times each meeting, sometimes in front of other Scouts who hooted and covertly mocked me. I didn't care about any of that, I loved anything involving Henry and me. I loved Henry, not romantically or anything... I loved him as my honored leader, who I'd follow anywhere. After a couple of meetings I adopted the submissive manner of actually bowing my head slightly at his orders... I loved the thought of being his trusted aid. He was very strict that my appearance be perfect at all times. I was instructed to have his old uniform altered to fit me better, which my Mom did for me. I'd iron Henry's old uniform and one of his Eagle Scout uniforms for half an hour before each meeting. Henry only sent his to the dry cleaners once a month, the other times I was responsible for it being stiffly ironed. But all that kind of thing developed over a number of Scout meetings. Initially, Henry felt his way along ordering me to do things in a manner that made me think he was testing how much I'd put up with. If only he knew I'd let him get away with almost anything.

After the first meeting with me as his assistant, while I was putting all the equipment away, Henry sat in his office acting pompous. By the time I'd completed the tasks Henry and I were the only ones left in the armory. I reported to him at "attention" that my assignment was completed and he walked over to look at me, then say, "Stay... I'll check your work". I stayed at attention for maybe five minutes until he returned. He had a stern expression, "Drop you pants and lean on the edge of my desk." I figured I'd screw-up something and this would be another excuse for Henry to fuck me, which I was in favor of, by the way. But a surprise, instead of fucking me he spanked me till tears were on my cheeks. He spanked me with his open hand in a deliberate manner, alternating right buttock then left buttock, which at first just stung, but repetitions soon had me squirming and whining, then begging in to stop while I had one of my hand back there trying to absorb the next smack. He kept his left forearm behind my neck with my forehead pressed against the desk top and spanked me hard with his right hand. It went on for no more than two minutes, but it hurt. I was able to peek back at Henry with my left eye and see his big boner-outline in his pants. It was poking the side of my thigh at times too... Henry got aroused from spanking me. He spanked me as if he meant it, it wasn't symbolic, it was a real stinging spanking. After two minutes or so he stopped and grunted, "Pull your pants up. You got a spanking because you had everything in the wrong closets. That won't do". There wasn't any boo-hooing on my part, but tears tracks were obvious on my cheeks as I nodded my head at what Henry said. I wasn't mad at him like most guys would have been because my dick had gotten a little stiff and felt good during the spanking... a combination of Henry's dominance and his boner poking my leg, probably. Henry looked at my tear streaks for a second and shook his head slowly in a disapproving manner but said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Andrew... not actually hurt you. A spanking stings and it's more like an alternative to having you run laps. You understand?" I nodded my head and said, "Yes, Sir... Henry" He gave a rye smile and said, "I like you, Andrew, I actually like you." It was as if he surprised himself, but it made me feel so good I was almost glad I'd gotten the spanking.

Very abruptly Henry's mood changed and he says, "Go into the lavatory and wash your face, you have mucus on your upper lip too. Take all your clothes off, I'll be in there to fuck you shortly. No talking tonight, Andrew, I'm still disappointed in your performance closing up shop tonight". He kept me waiting naked, standing in the lavatory, about ten minutes. The door eventually swung open, he came over to me with the familiar Lucky Strike cigarette between his lips, turned me around, unzipped his fly and fucked me without so much as a how-do-you-do, both of us standing up with Henry holding onto my hips. BO and cigarette smoke floating around us in equal proportions. It wasn't as great a feeling overall because every time his crotch smacked into my buttocks it was a stinging thing because of the spanking, but inside my hole it felt fantastic and as Henry climaxed up my ass I shot a hard arch of cum that almost reached the sink, me squealing like a school girl all during the climax. He pulled out of me and calmly said, "Get dressed and meet me outside, we'll have another cigarette together. I'm feeling better about things now and I want to talk to you about something new."

Outside Henry was back to his nicer self and as we smoked two cigarettes each he gave me explanations of why his rough treatment tonight was good for me. It seemed to make sense the way he put it. His real reason for this talk though was to give me directions to his house... you know, directions for me riding my scooter there. "This will allow for extra training I need to do for you, Andrew. For nights we don't have the Boy Scout meeting, after supper ride over to my place and just wait for me in front of the garage doors in back." He blew smoke in my face, grabbed between my leg, and asked, almost with a tiny grin, "You can do that, can't you Andrew?" I stuttered, "Ya, Yes. yes Henry, Sir...er... is that right, Henry? We're outside the armory so I said both Henry and Sir." He said I'd handled it just right and I glowed with pride. We began walking home together in better moods. My ass was already feeling better and Henry soon had me in that awkward headlock again... it was his only way of showing affection I think. He goosed my ass real good just before we went our separate ways and I let out a loud, "Ouch!" with Henry doing that almost-a-grin thing again... maybe he thought he was being playful, but my ass was still a bit tender from the spanking. His BO was present tonight, but not as pronounced as some nights... except for when he had me in his headlock, then I smelled it quite well. When we split up, I thought excitedly about going to his house tomorrow night and repeated the directions all the way home... I had them memorized before I even got there. At home I took a bath, soaking my sore ass, but without washing my armpits... I was determined to generate some BO like Henry's.

The next night after eating supper I drove my scooter to Henry's. His house was real old but in pretty good shape. I drove around back and parked my scooter on it's kick stand. First thing I did after that was open the new pack of Lucky Strike filters that I'd bought at the convenience store on the way over. To buy them I needed to point to a strange lady who was looking for something in the food aisle and say, "That's my Mom, she wants a pack of Lucky Strike filters, please" the teenage girl clerk asked, "Soft pack or hard?". Henry always gets a hard pack, so that's what I got too. My first pack of cigarettes. I smoked two before Henry showed up. He came out of his house and said, "Let me have one of those, Andrew. I left mine in my work clothes pocket". As I handed him one and lit it for him, I was thinking... we're buddies now. I was also looking at his wet hair realizing he'd just got out of the shower and that's why I wasn't picking- up the usual BO smell, which was oddly disappointing. Henry took a deep drag and said, "My Dad is home tonight so you and I will work in the garage". It was a two car garage and Henry pointed to a new pickup saying, "That's Dad's. I have a Dodge Charger that's having the engine re-built. He's been driving me directly to the Scout meetings from work, ya know... until my car is fixed." We walked in a door situated between the two garage bays and Henry goes, "Sit on that stool next to the work bench". I hopped up on the stool thinking, "Ah ha! That's why Henry has the BO, he comes to meetings right from work and changes into his uniform at the armory but doesn't have time to shower". Henry lifted my right leg with a hand under my calf and untied my sneaker, he pulled off the sneaker and then pulled off my sweat sock, saying, "This is another way of showing trust in one another, showing that you're there for your men no matter what" and, with a hand under my heel he lifted my foot to press his face flat against the bottom. Picking my leg up like that had me leaning back against the workbench, my elbows on it's surface and, let me tell ya, nothing could have surprised me more then Henry putting his face against my sweaty, bare foot. He left it there for a few seconds, then rubbed his nose against the arch of my foot a bit before pulling away and, in a lecturing manner, saying, "This is another example of a leader doing what his men might need to do." My eyes were wide as I stared into his intense dark blue eyes and muttered, "Huh?" Henry had been holding my leg up with a hand under my calf, he let go of that and used that hand to twist my big toe painfully shouting, "Huh? You say huh, to me?" I was like, "Ouch, ah, I mean, Yes, Henry... or rather, I'm sorry, Henry".

Letting go of my foot he gave me a lecture about a war where it was so cold the infantry needed to put their hands in their buddies' armpit and their feet in their buddies crotches to keep them from becoming frost bitten. He wasn't sure if it was the Korean War or World War II, but he swears he learned about it at his Military prep school. "I'm just doing this as an example of what might someday be required, we don't know what the future may bring. Now, lift your leg back up here". I raised my leg and he again held it under the calf with one hand and under my heel with the other. "You'll be expected to do this on my feet when we're practicing in my room. Dad goes out most nights and we can use my room then." He went about smelling and, shockingly, licking my foot and sucking on my toes... this went on for a good three or four minutes. Then he licked up the inside of my hairless leg until he reached my cargo shorts. Lifting his head he announced, "When you do this to me I'll have my pants off so you'll be able to suck my cock like you enjoyed doing the other night. It's kind of, shall we say, your reward for coming along so well in your training program. What do you say to that?" I wanted to say, "Huh?" again but I didn't want to get my toe twisted so I said, "Yes, Henry". I couldn't assimilate this unbelievable bit of activity, never mind the assumption that I enjoyed sucking his cock... how'd he come to that conclusion? He may as well have been speaking a foreign language for all of it I could make sense of. I knew I was too young to understand it all, it was for much older teenagers... I wanted to please Henry and prove to him that even a fourteen year old could keep up, so I didn't ask him to explain this bizarre foot behavior. Henry put my foot down saying, "We'll do it with your other foot now so you'll remember how it's done" and he took my other sneaker and sweat sock off to repeat all the smelling and licking of my other foot. I thought he was trying to eat my foot at one point and my whole foot with all five toes was dripping with saliva at another point. My foot was pink, and looking clean, by the time Henry was done with it. Those ten minutes, five minutes a foot, were the weirdest, most unexpected ten minutes in my life up till then. Henry's boner was so prevalent in his pants I couldn't understand why he didn't adjust it or something, it looked like it was straining to poke a hole in his khaki pants. By the time he was done with my other foot he had a wet spot at the head of his cock the size of a silver dollar. This was a procedure that didn't arouse me at all and I remember thinking, as I rode my scooter home a little later on... all of my training wasn't going to be as satisfying as getting fucked has been for me, some of the training needed to be more practical, I guess. Of course, nothing Henry did was viewed as "wrong" by my fourteen year old self back then. I was wicked disappointed though that Henry hadn't caused me to climax even once tonight. I took care of that at home in my bathroom, but it wasn't anywhere near as hot as when Henry gets me off.

The next meeting went much better than the last one because Henry didn't have me up in front of everyone with a pointer indicating various parts of my body. I had Henry's altered Boy Scout uniform on and it fit pretty good now... I felt like I was looking good. I liked wearing the same uniform Henry had worn eight years ago. After the meeting Henry didn't forget to fuck me... I was worried the maybe we were done with that, but we weren't. He did me in the lavatory with me on all fours. Henry called it "doggie style", a first for me and my favorite position so far. Henry drooled a long spit stream on my hole before entering me this time. He said, "That was a little rough on my penis the other afternoon. If I remember, one of these times we can put some lube on your twat so it goes smoother. Now get it up for me, Andrew... that's it, boy!" With a leg on either side of my thighs Henry had to squat way down to get to my twat... er, my ass, I mean. With me on all fours, he held my hips tightly to stabilize himself, and then slid his boner up my ass rather easily compared to that afternoon dry-fuck in the Black's Garage lavatory. Henry was really driving his boner way up my ass in this position and it passed over a spot in my ass with each thrust that had my eyes bulging out of my head with the pleasure of it. Of course I now know it's my prostate he was massaging with his boner, it just so happened his cock and my prostate hit it off best doggie style. Oh my, did Henry have me whispering his name in between long exclamations of, "Ahhhh... Mmmmmm Oh Oh!". My boner was hard as a pipe, level with my belly, and I fired off four good streams of white creamy cum thinking I'd never felt anything this good. The first cum shot sprayed under my chin. That was my best climax so far and the first time I climaxed before Henry did. Ne blew his load of spunk up my ass almost simultaneously with my first shot of cum, my ring closed tight on his shaft and he squealed the same way he'd done in the little BO lavatory and blew his load. I literally saw stars when I was climaxing... my eyes closed so tightly at the exact same time my toes were spreading apart. Awesome sensations!

While smoking outside afterward, we didn't speak of the sex. Before coming out for our smoke, Henry had me first clean myself up and then clean my cum shots off the tile floor. He stroked his cock casually with a calm, pleased look on his face as he watched me clean. During our second cigarette he informed me he wanted me at his house tomorrow night earlier than the other night. His father would be out of the house and so we'd be able to get more accomplished. Henry was sitting with his legs crossed at the knees again, kicking his top leg slightly as he smoked... I sat next to him on the long bench facing the Armory, in the exact same way Henry sat. It was awkward at first, crossing my leg at my knees, but it got more familiar the more I did it. Even though it pains me to say it... even now, five years later, I still sit the same way. It's weird to think about that five years after the fact. You know, I hadn't realized that I'd learned that way of crossing my legs from Henry. That is, not until I started recalling these details during this drive to college. Sitting next to Henry way back then I not only had the crossed legs concentrate on, I was also dealing with the wetness of Henry's spunk that kept drooling out of my asshole, spreading between my buttocks and wetting through my pants. I stuck with it all without complaining because I liked it and felt that getting fucked by Henry was worth putting up with some unpleasantness. Also, sitting there I was hoping Henry would notice the teen BO of my own that I'd been cultivating by avoiding showers. All these things combined to make me feel very much like a mini "Henry". I was a smaller version of him, he didn't seem to notice this though. I swung my crossed top leg in an exaggerated manner, and raised my arms over my head trying to get my BO to waft up to him, but Henry was oblivious... he could go into these quiet periods which sometimes stretched out to awkward lengths. Oh well, I waited for Henry to tell me it was time to go home... I was feeling very special.

Henry finally broke out of his trance and announced it was time to go. We walked halfway home together, smoking but not talking. At Grove Street we split-up.. Henry went left and I went right. Carlos was at my house when I got home... it was still light so we flew off riding the scooter, Carlos on the back with his arms around my waist. We were headed for the big office-park parking lot to do some daredevil stuff on the scooter. When we got there and Carlos was on his feet he said, "I don't know how to tell ya this dude, but you stink! You got BO like what's his name, the Eagle Scout dude." Both Carlos and Billie had dropped out of the Scout recruits group because they said there were too many fucking rules. I couldn't spend any time with them at the meetings anyway because of my elevated status... that's the way I evaluated it when I was fourteen, now I know I was acting like a jackass, but not back then. I said, "Carlos, sometimes mature teens get body odor working under a heavier load of responsibilities than guys your age". Carlos goes, "Yeah, maybe so Andrew, but you are my age, what's your excuse". I tried to make a joke out of it then by smelling theatrically under my arms and saying, "I don't smell anything" when actually it was pretty ripe, almost like Henry's pits at most Scout meetings. I took this as another indication I was more mature than most kids my age. Carlos says, "I got four words for ya... dee-o-dor-ant!" I said, "Ahh, deodorants for girlie-boys" and we dropped the subject. It's amazing I didn't recognize the irony back then of calling anyone a "girlie/boy" when I was the one taking it up my ass on a regular basis. Carlos and I concentrated on the scooter the rest of the night and had a blast. Back then, even with my involvement with Henry, I spent a lot of time with my main boys, Carlos and Billy. They weren't in the scouts anymore but we still saw a lot of each other most days. At night the Scout meetings lasted about an hour and a half to two hours and my trips to Henry's house were less than an hour... plenty of time left over for me and the guys to do our regular fourteen-year-old stuff together, which had absolutely nothing to do with sex of any kind. We didn't talk about girls or boys... we mostly talked sports, computer games, X-box stuff, and the like. I really liked hooking up with my boys, but I was always looking forward to my next chance to spend time with Henry too, and tomorrow night is that next time. Oh boy...

to be continued.... chapter three (college roommate)

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com