The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write ron@themustardjar.com with your comments. Ronyx is a prolific Nifty author. Visit www.themustardjar.com for more stories.
It's Not Easy Being a Tree Chapter 3
Okay. I'm now a man on a mission. Indyboi91 wants to chat with me. I don't know why, but I kind of feel this connection with him. Sure, he has a hot body, even hotter than the blonde guy I usually jerk off to. So I've got to chat with him. I just have to.
However, there is one overwhelming problem- I can't. I have to show I'm at least eighteen, but I don't know how. Indyboi91 told me he did it with a fake ID, but where am I going to get one? If I ask him where he got his and then he tells me, he can always find out who I am when I get one. It is probably a friend who does them. Also, since I'm only sixteen, I don't have a credit card I can use.
But there has to be a way to see Indyboi91 again. There just has to be. First, though, I
have to buy a webcam. I don't even know where to begin. I went to Ebay to see if I could buy one, but again, I need a credit card. They don't appear to be too expensive. I can buy one for about fifty dollars. That will take all the money I've been saving to buy a new video game, but I don't care. I would rather see the boy in the chat room again. And if I can get a cam and somehow get a fake ID, then maybe I'll be able to get up the nerve to let him see me too. I doubt that, though. There is no way on this green earth I'd ever let a guy watch me jerk off. Besides, not only would he be able to watch, but also just about every guy on the planet could see me. No, I could never do that.
Dad and Jon were already discussing the football game when I entered the kitchen. Jon's coach told him a college scout might be in the stands to watch him play. Jon has already received offers from three different colleges, but they are small schools. He's holding out hoping that a big school will contact him.
"Did Coach Talbott tell you who is scouting you?" My father seemed more excited about it than Jon did.
"Some guy from Notre Dame," Jon responded unenthusiastically.
"Damn!" Dad exclaimed. "Your Uncle Junior played for Notre Dame. He'll be tickled pink if you get an offer from them."
"I dunno, Dad," Jon replied as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm kinda hoping to hear from a bigger school."
"Bigger school! They don't get much bigger than the Fighting Irish!"
"We'll see," Jon mumbled as he got up from the table and headed down to the basement to work out before going to school.
Mom sat down at the table and looked over at me. "How is school going, Woody? " She took a sip of coffee. I looked over at Dad. He was busy reading the paper.
"Alright, I guess," I responded as I looked over at Glenn who was digging a booger from his nose. He then pretended like he was going to wipe it on Glenda's sleeve.
"Mom!" Glenda squealed. "Glenn's going to wipe his boogie on me."
Dad put down his paper and laughed. He tried to hold back a grin as he chastised Glenn for his immature behavior. I guess no one really cared how I am doing in school. I got up and headed to my bedroom.
As I crossed the room to my computer, I noticed Jon's wallet on the dresser. I listened to hear if he was coming up the stairs before I picked it up. I suddenly had an idea how I could see Indyboi19. I took Jon's driver's license out and looked at it. I then looked in the mirror and held it up to my face.
"This just might work," I thought to myself as I looked in the mirror. Jon was seventeen when he got his license, so he looks much younger than he does today. In fact, the picture looks remarkably like me. As long as I don't have to show them my small body and they only want a facial shot, it might work.
Suddenly, I heard Jon bounding up the stairs. I quickly returned his driver's license to his wallet and the hurried over to my computer desk. I was sitting when he opened the door and walked in.
I watched as he brushed his hair in the mirror. Step One for my plan to get online to see Indyboi91 had been solved. I will just use Jon's ID as proof of my age. Since we look so much alike, no one is sure to question it. Now I only have to complete Step Two- getting a webcam.
Step Two is solved when I sit down at the lunch table the next day. Kate and Anna were discussing an assignment in American history when Jeff looked over and asked me if I wanted to go to the mall Saturday morning.
"Sure," I replied. It isn't unusual for us to get together on Saturday and walk around the mall. Jeff works hard all week doing chores around his farm, so his mother lets him get away on Saturdays. Since our town is rather small, the only activity for us to do is to cruise the mall. It's not large like some I have seen in magazines, but it still contains some large retail stores, like JC Penny's and Sears. There are also several shoe stores. My favorites are Finish Line and Footlocker. I can't afford the most popular brands; but if I am with Mom, I can usually whine my way into a nice pair of gym shoes. Dad shops with Jon, and he will buy him anything he wants.
"Great!" Jeff said excitedly. "You want to meet me there, or do you want Mom to come by and pick you up?"
"I can ride my bike," I replied. I didn't want to be with Jeff the entire time we were at the mall. If I rode my bike, then I could stay after he leaves and go to Radio Shack and price a webcam. If he is with me, he will probably wonder what I want with a camera for my computer. It might be difficult to explain.
"Gee, Jeff. I just want one because I'm dying to see this guy's dick in a chat room and I need it to show them I am of legal age, which I'm not. But I'm going to steal my brother's driver's license, and pretend I am him. They will think I am nineteen, and not sixteen. Then I just might use the webcam to show this guy my big, hard dick if he asks to see it."
I looked over at Jeff as he took a bite from his hamburger. "Naw," I giggled. He gave me a puzzled look.
During fourth period, I got a message on my cell phone. We are not supposed to have them in class, but everyone has one. I keep mine on vibrate, but I usually only get a message from Mom or Dad. I don't even think Jon knows my number, although I have his stored in mine.
I carefully took my phone out and held it while Mr. Johnson lectured at the front of the room. It's an economics class and he was talking about the currency of China and how it influences our dollar. When he turned to write on the board, I looked quickly at the text message.
It was from Dad. He said he couldn't pick me up after school. He said he sent Jon a message telling him to wait for me after school and bring me home. Fat chance. It's Friday night and he will probably hang around with his football buddies until it is time to go to the stadium for the game. It is a home game and everyone has been excited all day about it.
I sent Jon a text when Mr. Johnson gave us a handout and then returned to his desk to grade some papers. The girl sitting in front of me is rather large, so he couldn't see me typing in my message. Billy, the boy in the seat next to me, tried to read what I was typing, but I looked over and frowned. He quickly looked away.
Dad says you have to take me home after school
I put my phone back in my pocket and waited for his reply. It didn't take long. About five minutes later, my phone vibrated. I looked at what he wrote.
Fuk off
I considered calling Dad and telling him, but he would probably laugh and tell me Jon is too busy with a football game tonight. So, I guess I will be walking home. It is a two-mile walk, but one I've done it many times before. At least it isn't raining like it was the last time Jon was supposed to have taken me home.
Kate was waiting for me at my locker when school let out. She smiled when she saw me approaching. "How was your day?" She asked as I opened my locker and stuffed my books inside. Since I had managed to finish all of my weekend assignments in my other classes, I didn't need to take any books home.
"Alright," I replied as I slammed my locker shut. "I gotta walk home. Dad can't pick me up and Jon won't take me." She locked her arm around mine as we headed down the hall. Anyone looking at us would think we were dating, but we know we are not. I wonder sometimes if she pretends I'm her boyfriend when we are together.
"Why don't you come home with me," Kate volunteered "Mom can take you home when she gets in from work."
"Your mom doesn't get home until five," I responded as I looked at my watch. "It's only three thirty."
She started giggling. "My little brother will be there, so you don't have to worry about me raping you or anything." She turned and faced me. "Not like you'd want me to anyway."
She wrapped her arm around mine as we headed for the door. I wondered what she meant by her last comment.
I've been to Kate's house a few times, but this was the first time we would be alone. Well, almost alone. Her little brother, Wayne, was already home and making a snack in the kitchen when we arrived. He looked up at me and giggled when we walked in.
"Hey, Woody." He held his mouth and giggled some more. Wayne is ten, and I guess he's probably just learned what a woody is. I was about his age when I first heard the word. I had gotten out of bed early one morning and my little dick was poking through my pajama bottoms.
Jon started laughing and pointing at it. "Woody has a woody," he laughed uproariously. I tucked it back inside my pajamas and went across the hall to the restroom. When I returned, I asked him why he called it a woody. Through fits of laughter, I learned a new meaning for my name that morning. It wasn't one I was particularly proud of.
"Get your cookies and get out of the kitchen." Kate scowled at him as he reached into the Mickey Mouse cookie jar, grabbed a handful of chocolate chips cookies and fled from the room.
"You want some?" She asked as she reached in and pulled out several cookies. I took a couple and then followed her into the family room. She turned on the television and we sat Indian style in front of it as she clicked the control trying to find something interesting. She finally placed the remote on the floor after finding a movie on HBO that I had already seen several times. I'm pretty sure she had too.
She scooted back against the sofa and patted the floor beside her. I moved beside her and took a bite of my cookie. I could tell out of the corner of my eye that she was looking at me.
"What?" I asked as I gave her a puzzled look.
"What, what?"
"Why are you staring at me?"
She started to speak, but then stopped. "Nothing."
"No," I said as I turned toward her. Her strange behavior had piqued my curiosity. "You were going to say something. What is it?"
"Nothing," she remarked sharply as she got up and went into the kitchen. A minute later, she returned with two Cokes. She sat back down, handed me one, then stared at the television. I looked over at her, but she seemed to ignore me.
"Fine," I said with just enough irritation in my voice to let her know she had upset me. "Be a child."
She sat up and stared into my eyes. I became uncomfortable as she continued to stare at me. Finally, she spoke, but it wasn't what I was expecting.
"Are you gay?"
My eyes widened with surprise as I looked at her. "What?"
"Are you gay?"
"You can't ask me that!" I insisted.
"I guess you are then," she remarked as she sat back and began watching the movie. I could feel my body beginning to tremble. Why did she ask me that? You can't just ask someone if they are gay and expect them to answer. I looked over at her as she nibbled on her chocolate chip cookie.
"Why did you ask me that?" I was feeling more hurt than angry. She had put me on the spot, and now she was watching television as if she hadn't just asked me the most monumental question you can ask someone.
She moved in front of me, crossed her legs Indian style and grabbed my hands. "We've known each other since the first grade, right?" I nodded my head and looked away. "Not once have I ever seen you show any interest in a girl." She squeezed my hands tighter and chuckled. "Not even when I wanted you to be my boyfriend in the third grade." She smiled warmly at me. "I even tried to kiss you once and you ran away."
"Well, um, um..." I started to stammer. I could remember that day. Even though I was eight, the idea of kissing a girl was still repulsive to me.
Kate giggled and squeezed my hands tightly. "It's okay, Woody. There's nothing wrong with being gay."
"Why do you think I'm gay?" I rose and sat on the sofa. Kate got up and sat closely beside me.
She gave me a puzzled look. "Well, aren't you? I've just kind of over the past year assumed you were."
I looked at her sadly and then buried my head in my hands. I was worried. If Kate could tell I am gay, then surely others can tell too. I had tried so hard to mask the image of me being gay. Sure, I don't play sports and I am small, but I still try hard to act normal.
"It's okay," she said softly. I lifted my head and saw tears in her eyes. She kind of nodded her head and asked, "So you are?"
I shrugged my shoulders. It seemed like we had passed a point where there was no more reason to conceal the truth. "I don't know," seemed a safe answer.
Kate gave me a puzzled look. "What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I've never done anything with anybody." I could tell my face was beginning to redden.
"Really?" She started to giggle. "I thought you and Jeff were doing it."
"What!" I looked over wide-eyed at her. "Jeff! Why do you think Jeff and I are messing around?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't date, either. And I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes at lunch."
"He doesn't look any way at me," I insisted. I had never thought of him sexually; well not much anyway. I did last year when I thought he liked me. I jerked off a few times after talking to him on the phone wondering what it would be like to have sex with him.
"He does, too," Kate insisted. "You saw the happy look on his face when you told him at lunch you'd go to the mall with him tomorrow."
"We always go to the mall together," I reminded her. "It doesn't mean I'm sucking his dick or anything." My face began to redden when I realized what I had said.
"But you'd like to," she giggled. "Suck his dick."
I scooted away from her. "I'm not going to have this discussion with you."
She giggled again. "Oh, come on Woody. I'm just teasing you Besides, I'm curious."
"Curious about what?"
"You being gay."
"I never actually said I was gay! I said I didn`t know."
"Sure you are," she insisted. She scooted closer to me. "Okay," I noticed a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Do you ever think of me when you're jerking off, or jacking off or whatever you call it?"
"Oh, hell no!" I got up, walked across the room, and plopped down in a wing back chair. "I can't believe you just asked me that!"
She smiled that mischievous grin, got up and sat down in front of me. "Well, have you?"
I folded my arms tightly and stared out the window. "I'm not going to answer that."
"So you haven't?" I looked at her and glared. She smiled and that mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes again.
"I think about Brandon Metzger when I'm doing it."
My eyes flew open as she started to giggle. I grabbed my ears and started singing The Star Spangled Banner as loudly as I could. She rolled back on the floor and started laughing uproariously.
Brandon Metzger was treated like a god at our school. He was tall, good looking and had a personality that drew people to him like honey draws bees. He couldn't walk down the hall without having several people approach him. He has blond hair, blue eyes and a body that must have been sculpted by Michelangelo.
The interesting thing about Brandon was that he played no sports. Most admiration in a high school is usually reserved for star athletes. Even though he appeared more athletic than most athletes, he never competed in a team sport. The football coach had been trying to convince him to play for the past two years, but he refused. No one knew why, but it still didn't prevent him from being one of the most revered students in our school.
There had also been an unspoken competition going on involving Brandon since the seventh grade. He dated often, but he insisted that he was going to remain a virgin until he graduated from high school. There was a rumor going around school last year that Amanda Smith had attended a movie with Brandon and didn't wear any panties. When she took his hand and tried to get him to finger her, he walked out of the theater.
I took my hands from my ears and said, "I'm not listening to you!" Kate laughed louder as I started singing again. She sat up and smiled. Thinking it was safe, I uncovered my ears.
When I saw her grin appear, I covered my ears quickly, but not before she said, "And Sarah Covington."
I removed my hands and stared at her with my mouth agape. "What?"
Sarah has been a classmate since kindergarten. She grew from a skinny little girl with braces into a beautiful, bosomy woman. She was a varsity cheerleader, and she had been going steady with the quarterback of the football team since ninth grade. There was a rumor two years ago that he had gotten her pregnant, but she had a miscarriage before anyone could notice.
"When I masturbate, I think of Sarah sometimes."
I grabbed my ears and started yelling, "I can't hear you!!!!!!" I looked down at the floor as Kate rolled around laughing hilariously. I got down on the floor and sat beside her.
"So you're gay, too?"
"I knew it!" She shrieked as I gave her a puzzled look. "You said, `So you're gay, too!" My face reddened when I realized I had just outed myself to Kate.
I shrugged my shoulders and leaned against the sofa. "I dunno. Maybe, I guess." Kate scooted beside me, pressing her body against mine
"This is kind of cool," she said. I looked over as she smiled at me. "You know, having someone to talk to."
"Yeah, I guess it kind of is." I smiled and grabbed my ears "As long as you don't talk about.." Kate roared with laughter when I looked down at her lap.
We sat quietly for a minute. I guess we were both reflecting on our new friendship. Suddenly, Kate turned to me. "So, Woody, who do you like? I told you I like Brandon and Sarah." That mischievous grin appeared and she looked down at my crotch. "Who do you think about when you're, you know, doing that thing."
I started to get up, but she grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back down. "Come on, Woody, I'm only teasing you." She looked into my eyes and asked almost pleadingly, "Seriously, do you like someone?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno, maybe." She moved around in front of me.
"Really? Who?"
"There's a guy I'm talking to on the internet."
Kate frowned. "The internet? What's he look like."
I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno. I just met him." I couldn't tell her that the only thing I had seen was his smooth body and hard cock as he stroked it. And then, for only a few seconds.
She frowned. "Be careful, Woody. The internet is full of crazy people."
"Yeah, I know," I assured her. "I'll be careful. I know what I'm doing."
She started to say something, but just then we heard the back door open and her mother hollered out, "Anyone here?"
Kate rose and went into the kitchen. I wished that we had more time to talk I'd finally come out to someone and I had a lot of feelings boxed up inside me ready to explode. Kate was a girl, but I felt comfortable with her. The fact that she seemed to be dealing with the same feelings as me helped.
Mrs. Combs walked into the family room. "Hello, Woody," she said cheerfully. "Kate tells me you need a ride home." I nodded as she jingled her keys in front of her. "Let me go get Wayne You and Kate can go ahead and get in the car."
When Kate and I walked out onto the back patio, she turned and stopped. She took a step forward and hugged me. "Thanks, Woody," she whispered in my ear as she held me tightly. I kissed her gently on her cheek.
Everyone was buzzing around when I got home. Dad was hollering at Mom about dinner not being ready and he would miss the opening kickoff. She stormed into the kitchen and I could hear her slamming cabinet doors loud enough for Dad to hear. He just did a grumbled `humph," and continued to read his paper.
When I went upstairs to my room, I could hear Jon taking a shower. As I walked over to my computer, I noticed his wallet on his dresser. I walked back over to the door and listened across the hall. I could hear him singing, although it sounded more like a horny tomcat bellowing out a mating call to female cat.
Listening to hear when he would turn off the shower, I tiptoed over to his dresser and picked up his wallet. I carefully removed his driver's license and hurried to my computer. I was hoping I could register with the website before he finished. Then I remembered I couldn't register online. I had to show them my identification on a webcam. I would have to wait until I went to the mall with Jeff tomorrow and purchased a webcam at Radio Shack.
Just as I rose to return Jon's driver's license to his wallet, Dad came into the room. He told me I should hurry and take my shower and dress for the game. I kept looking over at the open wallet, hoping he would leave before Jon got out of the bathroom. For some reason, he decided that he would go over to a bulletin board on the wall next to Jon's bed and look at the pictures Jon pins up to it. Most are pictures taken by Dad after games. He purchased an expensive camera when Jon was a freshman, and he has taken after-game pictures of him. Before going to the locker room, Jon always rushes over and poses on the sidelines. Usually, he is accompanied by another player who had made a spectacular play that night.
"It's hard to believe he's grown up so fast," Dad reminisced as he looked sadly at the pictures. He unpinned one and held it in his hands.
"Oh, Shit!" I panicked when I heard Jon turn off the shower I looked frantically at his wallet and then at Dad. There was no way I could place it back in the wallet without Dad seeing me and questioning me what I was doing with it.
A minute later, Jon walked into the room naked, toweling his hair dry. He walked over to the picture Dad was holding and started laughing. They talked a few minutes as they continued to look at the bulletin board. When Dad left, Jon was dressed and brushing his hair in front of his dresser. He took a final look, put down his brush, picked up his wallet and placed it in his back pocket.
"See ya after the game, Runt," he said as he left the room.
I looked down at his face on the driver's license staring back at me.
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