Tim and the Corsair Chapter 3 This story concerns teenage gay males who are involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.
This story is copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This is my second submission to Nifty. This is a continuation of “Kiel’s Story” which was last posted on 7/24/06. It is not necessary to read “Kiel’s Story” to enjoy this, but it may help you understand where the character relationships started. Any comments or questions are welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net
A warm thank you goes out to all who’ve written. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff. I try to respond to all, including flames, but time is precious and if I haven't answered your email, I apologize.
Tim and the Corsair
by Carl Holiday
Chapter 3 – Remember Me With This
It was Sunday morning and I should have been up, getting ready for church, but my head hurt like hell and I didn’t care. I was hard and I wanted to take it in my hand. I wanted to feel good. I wanted to remember how I felt yesterday, I think it was yesterday, afternoon when Jerry was trying his best to be a regular guy with a dick. Only someone else was stroking me. I thought it was probably the same person whose own hard-on was pressed against my ass.
“Are you awake, Sam? Or, is this only a dream?”
“You have a nice cock,” Sam whispered in my ear. “I like holding it.”
“I have a bad headache and I know you’re trying to make me feel good, but you’re only making me feel sad.”
“You’re not nauseous are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because, Doctor Tim said I should ask you that.”
“Ah, a concussion question. My name is Geoffrey Arnold Johnson. I am sixteen years old. I was born in Decatur, Alabama. I live in North Park, Washington. Lyndon Baines Johnson is President of the United States. I hit the back of my head on a concrete balcony when someone pulled me back from trying to commit suicide. That might not sound too smart, but I am so fucking intelligent it scares the shit out of me sometimes. There is a boy with his hand in my pajamas trying his best to make me feel good. Now, are you convinced I am not confused?”
“Okay, smartee, I guess you’re okay, but what are we going to do about these erections? You don’t intend to let yours go to waste, do you?”
“Sam, honestly, the way my head feels right now, I can’t imagine coming, let alone helping you. I want, but I can’t.”
“You’re not making it easy for me to become your lover.”
I wasn’t, of course. Less than twenty-four hours ago I came within a thought of purposefully dying. Why? Shit, if I knew I wouldn’t be taking antidepressants that didn’t seem to be working. My salvation was lying behind me with his hand on my dick, trying very hard to give me a very pleasurable experience. Sam Black, Roman Catholic, genius, gay, beautiful, I wanted so much to turn over and kiss him, but I couldn’t.
We got up and went down to the bathroom, me in my red and blue plaid pajamas and Sam in a white t-shirt and green boxers. He certainly knew how to turn me on. Too bad my switch was broken. We struggled with our hard-ons trying to get them softened enough to allow a dribble of pee to pass. I don’t know which one of us started giggling first, but soon we were laughing hard. My head was about to explode from the pain; and, then without so much as a fanfare from trumpets in the balcony my golden stream shot out so unexpectedly I nearly missed the porcelain target. As I began to get some relief, Sam’s cock decided to participate and both of us were well on our way to being ready for breakfast.
Back in my bedroom, I quickly stripped off my pajamas and watched Sam stare at me. I beckoned him to me. He wrapped his arms around me and sunk his tongue deep into my mouth. I reached around him and slipped my hands down into his boxers, grabbing those two white melons of soft, pliable flesh, pulling him into me. My head hurt like hell. I shut my eyes and pushed myself away.
“Damn it, Sam, I want you so much,” I said.
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Like you can’t imagine.”
“Let me help you. Where’s your underwear?”
“Middle drawer.”
And, he dressed me. Briefs, t-shirt, faded blue jeans, light blue short-sleeved oxford, yellow and blue argyle socks, and a pair of black penny loafers I hadn’t worn in months. They were almost too tight. I’d have to get a new pair soon. Sam liked penny loafers.
I sat on my bed trying to will my head to stop hurting as I watched him dress. He was so beautiful, I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him against me forever. Then I remembered Mr. Crowley.
“What happened to my teddy bear?” I asked. Sam looked up from putting on his socks. He smiled that little half smile that showed only a bit of white teeth that made me want to kiss him.
“I gave him to Peter. Johnny’s been going home for visits and Peter gets lonely.”
“Johnny’s going home?
“No, his parents are just playing with his mind. They could care less if he’s there or not. He’s worse off when he comes back. It takes Peter nearly a week to get back into bed with him. I feel sorry for both of them.”
“I wish there was something I could do. I miss them, but I don’t want to go back there. What about you?”
“I’m not going home, ever. Those fucking bastards could care less whether I’m there or not. Come on, I’m hungry. Does your mother fix breakfast or is it potluck?”
“Well, I’m surprised she hasn’t yelled for us to come down. Maybe I’ll have to fix something for us.”
“I can cook.”
“Tim said you were a genius, or something.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t cook. I’ve been practically living on my own for the past ten years.”
“I guess there’re a lot of things I don’t know about you.”
Doctor Randall was at the dinette drinking coffee. Mother was in her paisley housecoat frying bacon. There were eggs on the counter. A bowl of pancake batter was waiting for the griddle to get hot. There were three glasses of orange juice on the table.
Sally was in the living room reading the funnies, we could hear her giggling. Sam went over and scooted around the dinette until he was sitting next to Doctor Randall. Neither Mother nor Doctor Randall acknowledged our presence. Whatever their game, I wasn’t in a mood to play.
“Good morning,” I said. “Is there some kind of pain pill for me, or do I have to eat something first?”
“How’s your head?” Doctor Randall asked.
“Sore, aches,” I said, walking over to the stove. Mother seemed to shy away from me as I got close. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why, but at least I was smart as a rocket scientist, so I kept a bit of space between us. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mother. I honestly don’t know why I did it. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Geoff, I was okay when Stevie died and you tried to jump off the bridge,” Mother said, fiddling with the bacon, not turning to face me. “I was kind of okay when you tried, again, after your father died but ended up nearly dead from the knifing. When Kiel attacked you, I guess that was the last bit of rock in the wall. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. I still love you, will always love you, but I can’t handle having you almost die.”
She still wasn’t looking at me. Obviously, the little bit of me, the living me, had died in her heart. She’d already accepted my death. I must have looked like I was going to pass out because Doctor Randall was at my side holding me.
“Why don’t you sit down, Geoff,” he said. I smelled it on him, the scent of Mother’s lavender scented bath soap. He’d spent the night. I tried to imagine him fucking Mother, but I couldn’t get a clear picture. Just when I was about to see a clear picture him thrusting into her I saw Jerry on top of me with his rubber dick slipping in and out of my ass. I felt my knees buckle and Doctor Randall grabbed my arm. “Come on, Geoff, let’s go to the table.”
My mother and my psychiatrist, now that was a combination I never imagined. It’s hard thinking about your mother having sex with someone; especially, if that someone isn’t your father and is someone you’ve imagined having sex with yourself. I wanted Doctor Randall to be gay. I wanted him for myself, but he obviously wanted his dick in my mother’s vagina. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach.
I broke from his hold and ran to the bathroom. I leaned over the toilet and my head pounded. I collapsed down onto my knees and retched, but there was nothing to come up. I wanted everything to stop. I wanted it to be over; and, then I felt a hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t Doctor Randall’s.
“I’ll take you up to your room when you’re ready,” Sam said.
“He fucked her, he fucked my mother,” I said, sitting back on my ankles. I turned to him and he wiped my mouth with a cool washcloth. I didn’t deserve his love. He was being too kind.
“It doesn’t matter, now. I’m with you. I’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to taken care of you?”
“You will, when you’re better.”
“That sounds like it’s bound to fail. One crazy taking care of the other. What happens when we’re both crazy at the same time?”
“We’ll make love and everything will be okay again.”
“Sounds like a plan. Come on, I want to go to bed.”
Tim came for breakfast Monday morning before school. He looked like someone who knew a secret and was busting a gut to keep from telling everyone he met. Mother was still subdued and standoffish to me. I must have scared the shit out of her. I wasn’t in a mood for school, but went through the motions, anyway.
Tim didn’t talk all the way to school. Not a word. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday morning when he came over for breakfast, so I didn’t know what was going on. I looked at him when he pulled into the circle drive in front of the main entrance.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“I’m not going in today,” he said. He didn’t turn to face me. “I’m getting on an airplane this afternoon. I’m going to LA to make a couple movies.”
“Movies? When did this come about?”
“Saturday at the football game. That’s why I was there, for an audition.”
“How do you audition at a football game? What is this, Tim?”
Holding up the paper bag that had been sitting between us, Tim said, “This is the model of Uncle Jerry’s Corsair. I know you like it, so I’m giving it to you. I want you to keep it.”
“Tim, what’s going on?” I asked. He sounded as if he was going to cry when I took the bag from him. It was taped shut and I didn’t make a move to open it. I didn’t want the Corsair to be in the bag.
“Look, my parents sell sex stuff, wholesale. They import it from overseas, book, magazines, sex aids, movies, and some other stuff. I never wanted to get in the business. I don’t want anything to do with that shit. I don’t want to sell sex. Well, my father decided I needed to do something in the business so he got me a couple movie deals. I’m quitting school and going to make some kiddie flicks.”
“What?”
“You know I look more like a twelve or thirteen year old than a sixteen year old, well, I guess there’s a lot of money in movies that have kids in them?”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Hell, half the stuff my parents sell is illegal somewhere. Why do you think we’re so rich? Fucking bastard basically sold me to this outfit that does movies.”
“He can’t do that.”
“Geoff, get a life, this is the real world out here. I don’t have a choice, okay? None. My father’s got me by the balls, so to speak considering mine are so tiny, but anyway, I’m gone. The next couple weeks in California, then down to Florida, and then some other kind of shit they didn’t tell me about. It’s been nice knowing you.”
“What about becoming a Navy pilot? I thought you had your heart set on that. I thought you had plans.”
“Look, don’t make this harder than it is. I’m gone. I’m already not here. Just forget me, okay? Just get the fuck out of my life. Go on, get out of my car. Leave me, damn it.”
“Call me, call collect, call me. If you need anything, call me I’ll get help.”
“There’s no help for me. Now, get the fuck away from me.”
He was crying. Tears were streaming down his face. Whatever his father was holding over him had to be something big because Tim hardly ever spoke to his father. I couldn’t think of anything good happening to Tim. I couldn’t think what to do. I had to call Jerry.
As soon as I got into the main building, I headed for the office all the time praying no one forgot their lunch and had to call mommy. I tried Jerry’s home number, but there was no answer. I looked in the phone book for the Veterans Hospital. I dialed the number, the receptionist transferred me, a woman answered.
“Is Jerry Chambers there?” I asked.
“Doctor Chambers?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“He’s in a consultation now. May I take message?”
“I need to talk to him, it’s very important.”
“I’m sorry, he can’t be interrupted.”
“His nephew, Tim, is in trouble. I have to talk to, uh, Doctor Chambers.”
“One moment, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Who is this?” Jerry asked after a minute or so.
“This is Geoff. Did you know Tim is leaving today to make dirty movies in California?”
“What?”
“Tim’s dad is making him go to California and Florida to make sex movies.”
“Shit! God damned bastard, sorry Geoff. Did Tim say when he is leaving?”
“He said he’s flying out this afternoon.”
“Probably a private plane. They don’t like the possibility of interventions. But, what airport? Not Sea-Tac, no not that, but maybe Boeing Field, no maybe Paine Field. Look, Geoff, I’ve got to go.”
“But, what about Tim?”
“Go to school. I’ll take care of this. Did he say how his father convinced him?”
“Something about being sold, some shit. Something about having him by the balls. I couldn’t understand.”
“Fuck! The damned bastard is trying to play his ace, only Tim doesn’t know it’s only a joker. Don’t worry. I’ll call you at home this afternoon. Oh, how’s the head?”
“Still a little sore. I miss you.”
“Go to school. I’ll be mad if you don’t. I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry, I’ll get Tim back.”
He hung up on me. I stood at the payphone watching the hall slowly fill up with students. Home period was a few minutes away. Another boring day at North Park High.
---------------
Mother wasn’t at work, she was home. Doctor Randall was there, too. I looked at them sitting at the dinette when I came in, but I went straight up to my room. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to the man who was fucking my mother. I knew she wasn’t in the mood to talk to her already dead son.
My bedroom door was open. Familiar voices were talking inside. When I got to the door I saw Sam sitting on my bed. Peter and Johnny were sitting on the floor playing Chutes and Ladders with Sally, probably losing horribly, poor suckers.
“Am I missing out on something?” I asked. Sam was up and practically ran to me. Our lips met for a moment before I had to break away. I had to be careful of the paper bag holding the Corsair. I didn’t want to break it. It was all I had to remember Tim if Jerry didn’t get him off the plane. I still couldn’t figure out what was happening.
“What’s in the bag?” Sam asked.
“Something Tim gave me,” I said, putting the bag on my desk. I turned and Sam’s lips met mine, again.
“Hey, Sam, quit hogging our new brother,” Peter said.
“What?” I asked.
“You don’t know?” Johnny asked. He was up and walking toward me. “Didn’t your mother tell you? I hope she isn’t starting to act like my parents.”
“Tell me what?”
“Your mother is going to be our foster mother,” Sam said. “All of us are going to live here, with you.”
“And, me,” Sally said.
“And, you,” Peter said, kneeling down and hugging Sally. “I get a little sister. I’ve always wanted a little sister, Geoff, and now I get to share yours. We’re going to have fun together, aren’t we Sally?”
“You can have the spoiled brat,” I said.
“That’s not nice,” Sally said. “I’m going to tell Mommy.”
“That’s all right, Sally, we’ll take care of him,” Johnny said, slugging me in the arm.
“Hey, watch that,” I said. “I’m older than you.”
“Yeah, but I’m oldest,” Sam said. “So if anyone’s going to be punishing you, it’s going to be me.”
“You won’t punish him,” Sally said. “You’ve been kissing.”
“Um, guys, a word of warning,” I said. “There are little eyes in this house. So if you want things to continue here as they are out at the hospital, you’re going to have to be very careful. Understood?”
“Okay,” all three said in unison.
“Now, tell me what’s this about all of you living here?”
“Doctor Randall convinced me to let all of you live here,” Mother said from behind me. I turned. She smiled and held out her arms. I sank into her embrace and nearly started crying. She hadn’t held me like this in years. “He’ll be here, too.”
I tensed and I think she noticed, but she continued to hold me to her. It hadn’t been that long since Dad died, but maybe their marriage wasn’t that good. He’d never been here all that much, always out on the road being the best pipe salesman west of the Rockies, so maybe Mother got tired of him being gone. I didn’t want to think she missed having a dick between her legs, but I thought of it anyway seeing Doctor Randall in my mind sticking it to her while she moaned in ecstasy, “oooh, Timmy, fuck me, fuck me baby, fuck me hard.”
God, I was pathetic. How could anyone think such thoughts about their mother? And, my psychiatrist, what was I going to do about him? “Daddy? I’m having this little problem with suicide. Can you help me?” I was not about to reveal my most secrets thoughts to that man, not again. Fuck!
But, I stayed in Mother’s embrace, letting her say when it would stop. It was nice feeling her love, again. Maybe Doctor Randall gave her a good talking to, then fucked her brains out.
It was not be for awhile, yet. The county had a ton of paperwork to process, workmen had to come in and add another full bath downstairs and a three-quarter bath upstairs, no more running downstairs to take a shit. All three boys had to have separate bedrooms, but that was easy as Karl’s and Trudy’s bedrooms were not being used and there was the guest bedroom, too.
We, Peter, Johnny, Sam and I, decided that Johnny would have the other bedroom upstairs so Peter could come up and sleep with him. Sam was going to be spending most of his time in my room, anyway, so it made some kind of sense to have all of us boys upstairs. We’d be together, again.
Jerry called after dinner, while we were having dessert. Sally answered and said, “There’s a Doctor Chambers who wants to speak to Geoff.” Mother looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders and went to the phone. I’d have to explain, but I wanted to find out about Tim.
“Hello?”
“Geoff, is that you?”
“Yeah, is Tim okay?”
“I’ve sent him out of town. He’s in a safe place.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, my brother, Tim’s father, is involved with a number of men whose interests tend to run on the darker side of the street. I needed to get Tim out of town for his own safety.”
“But, why?”
“Tim is adopted and, I guess, the paperwork might have been forged. Anyway, my brother decided Tim was of better use to the family as a porn star and prostitute, than the youngest member of the family.”
“Prostitute?”
“Yes, that’s the biggest problem we’ve got. It seems some of the people my brother’s become involved with are not nice people. Now, I can’t tell you where Tim is for your own safety. There are people looking for Tim right now. I’m also going to be gone for awhile.”
“But …”
“No, none of that. I’ll keep in touch, but you can’t know where I am. I want you to be extra careful because you are Tim’s friend. I’m not worried about my brother doing anything stupid, but the people he’s dealing with don’t really care if you’re only sixteen. I’ve got to go, we’ve talked too long.”
He hung up, again. I didn’t know what to do. Tim was gone. He wasn’t going to be doing any of that bad stuff, but he was still gone. And, who were these people I had to watch out for? It almost sounded like they were some kind of criminal, someone who wouldn’t have a problem with killing a sixteen year old boy, me, to find out where Tim and Jerry were hiding.
The only thing I could figure out was I needed Sam and he wasn’t here. I’d lost another best friend. God, I was such a pathetic loser. I was going to be so happy when I finally got the nerve to kill myself.