Kiels Story

By ten.tta@yadiloh_lrac

Published on Aug 13, 2022

Gay

Tim and the Corsair Chapter 6 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 in my life, so if I didn’t answer yours, please accept my apology.

Tim and the Corsair

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 6 – Johnny and the Corsair

The Fairy Table was almost full when I hobbled in for lunch that first day after New Years. Mark was sitting over by the bronze fairy across from an empty seat which I assumed was being saved for me. Monica was next to Mark, which was surprising because before Christmas break they were only talking on the phone. Across from Monica was a girl I seemed to recognize. She had a familiar face. The last two seats by the aisle were empty.

As I got closer, I caught Monica’s eye and she nudged Mark in the ribs. He said something to her then suddenly jerked away from her. He got up out of his seat and limped over to me.

“Stupid bitch, I don’t know why I bother,” he said. “Can I go get you a tray?”

“She told you to do this?” I asked. “That’s nice, Mark.”

“I told her to do it because she’s your friend.”

“Well, anyway, thank you. Here’s fifty cents. I’ll have the black plate.”

School colors for North Park were red and black which comes from the red and black plaid shirts lumberjacks supposedly wore when the school open back in the late 1890s. We were the Lumberjacks. And, no, the girls’ teams were not the Lumberjanes, Lumberjackettes, or Lumberanything other. They were Lumberjacks, too. If they had a problem with that, they could go to Crestline and be a Beaver, snicker, snicker.

The cafeteria ran a black plate lunch which was some kind of hot meat, vegetable, and fruit combination with milk. The red plate was some kind of fish, vegetable, and fruit combination with milk. Whenever they had grilled salmon which was about every other month, I don’t think they sold one black plate, which was good because it usually was liver and onions. Today’s menu was a combination pizza with an apple. The fish was sticks. If it didn’t look like fish, I didn’t eat it.

I sat down next to the unknown girl on the aisle seat. I wasn’t in the mood to figure out how to get my straight left leg under the table and not knock my foot into the girl, Monica, or Mark when he returned. It was only for one day, anyway, so I figured they could live with me sitting in a different seat.

“Hi, Geoff, do you remember Millie?” Monica said. She was wearing her school spirit sweater: red, black and white vertical stripes with a two bladed axe embroidered on the back and a smaller one over her left breast which had a silver football pinned to it. I wondered if it was Mark’s football pin. I wondered if something had changed while I was gone.

“Millie? No, I’m not sure,” I said, kind of turning to her, which was hard with my right arm between us. “You look familiar, but I can’t place where we’ve met.”

“Seventh grade, Mrs. Satterfield’s art class,” Millie said. She was wearing a green, long sleeved sweater and gray slacks. She looked very officious. “We sat together. We modeled for each other for the sculpture project.”

“Oh, gawd, the dick and slit show,” I said.

“The what?” Monica asked.

“The dick and slit show,” Millie said. “We had to pair up for a clay sculpture project, everybody except Alistair, that is. Do you remember Alistair, Geoff? What a fag he was, a total fairy. Well anyway, Geoff and I were rebels back then and I did his dick and he did my slit, which he did upside down so you had to look at it the right way to figure out what it was. Mine was easy, but he had to get creative because we only had a limited amount of clay to use. He wanted to do a tit, but I was a little behind back then and wasn’t even wearing a training bra. We were suspended for three days.”

Mark placed my tray down in front of me. There was a pizza on it. Not a slice, but a whole pizza and a bottle of Coke. I looked up at him.

“The cooks say welcome back,” Mark said. “They sure didn’t do that for me.”

“Yeah, but you got the coach fired,” Monica said.

“You know, this is really nice, but it isn’t sliced and I only have one hand,” I said, trying to look pathetic, which wasn’t hard since I had years of practice.

“Great, but you have to give me a piece,” Millie said, reaching over and tearing the pizza into fairly equal portions that could be eaten with one hand. “You know, Geoff, it has always bothered me why you didn’t try anything with me when we were naked and doing that art project.”

“You guys were naked?” Monica asked. “You got naked with Millie?”

“Yeah, but I was sucking Alistair’s dick at the time.”

“You’re a fag?” Millie said. “I always thought there was something wrong with you. Damn it, Monica, why’d you bring me to this table?”

“It’s the Fairy Table,” Mark said. “Anybody would’ve told you this is where the outcasts sit. Too bad, too, because now you’re marked. You’ll have to do wonders to sit at some other table. I know of at least three football players who’d be willing to let you sit at their table, but you’ll have to put out and I’m not talking about just kissing.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” Millie said, throwing the piece of pizza down on my tray. There was lipstick on it from where she’d bitten off a piece. “I’m not sitting with a fag.”

We watched her walk over to the conveyor to get rid of her tray. I suppose she was trying to appear huffish, but she looked kind of funny.

“She’s got a big butt,” Mark said. “It wobbles instead of wiggling.”

“Yeah,” Monica sighed. She was probably thinking what she looked like from behind. Monica didn’t have a big butt. She didn’t have much of a butt, at all. Her hips were kind of broad, but there was no meat on them. She wiggled when she walked. “Sorry, Geoff, when I saw her before Christmas I remembered you two seemed kind of close back at Bruce. I guess her family moved back from Florida in November.”

“We were kind of close, but me and Alistair were a lot closer. Can I ask you two for a favor? I need a hobby. Yesterday I didn’t have anything to do and I thought I should have a hobby.”

“You need a boyfriend,” Mark said.

“I have a boyfriend, but he was at your house yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right he was there, wasn’t he.”

“Is something wrong, Mark?” Monica asked. He looked kind of pale, like he was going to get sick.

“No, uh, Sam and I, well, we were in my bedroom, and, well.”

“What did he do to you?” I asked. I didn’t want to sound livid, but I was so close to being really, really mad, I think it came out that way because Mark kind of shied away toward the bronze fairy.

“Did you kiss him?” Monica asked. Mark half smiled, the half smile of someone caught with their hand down another guy’s pants.

“And, he did what?” I asked. I wasn’t letting this go. Mark and my boyfriend making out when they were supposed to be watching football games was not on my schedule for the evening news. Sam would be swallowing teeth if I was a violent person. As far as I was concerned, he was going to sleep in his own bed, but then I remembered I was supposed to sleep with Johnny because I was getting my casts removed.

“He didn’t do nothing,” Mark said. He was a football player, he didn’t have to sound intelligent. Then his voice dropped to a whisper, “We just kissed a little and I touched him.”

“He let you touch him?” I asked. I couldn’t believe this. Sam seducing Mark. This was totally unbelievable.

“Yeah, I touched his cock,” Mark whispered. “But it was still in his pants.”

“Well, that’s a good thing,” I said. Monica looked like she’d swallowed an olive pit.

“Look, you two, I just remembered I have to go to a cheerleaders meeting,” Monica said, getting up. “I’m probably late already. I’ll talk to you later, okay Geoff?”

“Will you call me?” Mark asked, but Monica was already out in the aisle heading toward the conveyor.

“Well, Mark, you’ve done it this time. I doubt if she calls you until after Spring Break.”

“Good riddance.”

“I thought you two were getting back together. Isn’t she wearing your football pin?”

“That silver football on her spirit sweater? That’s not mine. The school didn’t give me one because they thought it might cause a disruption or something. That pin is to show support for all the guys who attacked me. I nearly get killed and they get the school’s support. Sometimes I wished I had killed myself.”

“So tell, me, did Sam seduce you?” I asked. I didn’t want to get into another suicide pact with Mark. Although I didn’t want to talk about Mark’s peculiar desire to climb over to the other side of the fence, it was better than deciding which suicide method was best for him.

“Nah, I asked him to kiss me,” he whispered. I noticed the tables on either side of us suddenly quieted down as if everyone wanted to get the latest dirt on Mark. “Then things sort of escalated. He was rubbing my chest. I didn’t know that rubbing a guy’s chest in a certain spot, or two, could be so stimulating. That’s when I put my hand down there.”

I saw heads turn slightly as if ears were trying to tune in a better signal. Mark was whispering, but who knows how sound travels in a cafeteria crowded with prying ears.

“Tell me something, did you like it?”

“Yeah, I guess it was okay. I mean nothing happened. He didn’t touch me down there, so it wasn’t like I got all that excited.”

“Just a little, huh?”

“Yeah, a little, but you know when we was doing it I was thinking of you. I was imagining it was you with me. I like you. Then Johnny knocked on my door and Sam had to leave. What’s with Johnny? I mean he was always picking up things. Every time my dad put out a cigarette Johnny took the ashtray to the kitchen and cleaned it. Mother finally took him in there and had him do the dishes. She found him scrubbing the floor a couple hours later. Is he sick, or something?”

“Yeah, Johnny is sick, or something. I don’t know what his story is. We’ve all got something wrong, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to Johnny, yet. All I know is he likes to clean up a lot.”

“And, Sam, had to wipe his ass after he went to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, that’s another problem Johnny has. He’ll clean up your mess no questions asked, but he can’t seem to remember to keep himself clean.”

Thank god the bell rang because I was getting nervous. I took the last swallow of Coke and Mark stacked his tray on top of mine. He walked out with me. When we reached the hall I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“I’d like us to get together,” he whispered in my ear. I kind of tensed up, which I think he noticed. “No, not like last time. I don’t want to force you. I just want to know what it’s all about. Okay? I just want to know.”

“Sure, figure something out and I’ll be there,” I said. I didn’t turn to look at him. I felt sorry for him, actually. He was so lonely; and, now, I find out Sam kissed him and rubbed his nipples. I’d have to remember Mark liked that; and, apparently his subconscious wanted a loving dick up his ass, that made me smile. Nothing like a nice, slow fuck to energize a new relationship.

Now, that was a scary thought. Was I ready for a relationship with Mark? Could he be the boyfriend who was to succeed Tim? Was I overanalyzing again? Or, was I being my old crazy self, again?

But, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. All those muscles and he thought of me when he was with Sam. Now, that is love. Gawd, Mark in love with me. And, people think I’m weird.

I was supposed to go on my own to the doctor to get the casts removed, but it was pouring down at the end of sixth period. Two blocks to the bus stop, then transfer at Oak Park and Hundred Twentieth, then get off at Hundred Twentieth and Meridian and walk three blocks west and cut through North Park Memorial to the doctor’s office on the other side. Easy, if you don’t have an arm and a leg in casts and it’s not raining. I stood at the front door trying to decide what to do. Then Mrs. Butterfield, the attendance secretary, came up to me.

“Geoff? Hi, your mother called. She’ll pick you up. I told her to meet you at the cafeteria service entrance. Do you know where that is?”

“No.”

“Go through the cafeteria to the kitchen. Someone will show you the service door. There’s a ramp and it’s covered all the way down. You won’t get wet at all. Okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Butterfield.” She was nice. I always enjoyed talking with her, explaining why I was late and why my parents didn’t write me a note. She was good about cutting me a little slack when I should’ve been doing makeup time in detention.

“Oh, and Geoff? I just want you to know not everyone here is against Mark. Some of us think it’s downright disgusting the way most people are treating him. I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Butterfield. I know Mark would appreciate knowing that.”

“Oh, please, don’t tell anyone I said that. Please don’t do that.”

She walked away. She wanted to be nice, but didn’t want to get fired for supporting the wrong side, which is understandable considering how many people at school were supporting Mark, including the principal and most of Mark’s teachers.

I hobbled back to the cafeteria and found the school’s backdoor. I’d never been back there. It was quite interesting, actually, if I’d been interested in huge garbage bins full of cafeteria waste, which I wasn’t. The school’s gas connection was back there, too, which probably might have interested a future mechanical engineering student, which I wasn’t. What did interest me was Mother waiting for me. She looked like she’d been there quite a while.

“Hurry up, honey,” Mother said, starting car when I opened the door. “We’re going to be late. What took you so long? I called the school an hour ago.”

“Mrs. Butterfield just told me in the foyer,” I said, throwing my books on the floor and scooting into the backseat. The front seat didn’t slide back enough so I had to sit in back, except I couldn’t get in and shut the door, too.

“Well, are you going to shut the door?” I asked. She looked at me, then at the door, then back at me. “Sam or Peter or Johnny or Sally is with us and you don’t have to. I can’t, so we can’t go till you close it.”

She put the car in gear, jerk forward, slammed on the brakes, and the door slammed shut.

“And, you didn’t see me do that,” she said. “You’ll fail your driving test if they see you do that.”

“You failed your driving test?”

“They gave me a ticket for reckless driving.”

“My mother, the crook.”

“It’s not funny. Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, I saw Monica and Mark at lunch. And, do you remember Millie O’Reilly from when I was in seventh grade? I guess they’re back from Florida.”

“The girl you did that horrible art project with? Her father works for the telephone company. They’re always transferring him somewhere. I wonder if they’re the people who bought the old Watson house over by Mallard Lake. I guess I’ll have to give Peggy a call when I get home. What about her?”

“She doesn’t like people like me.”

“Smart people?”

“No.”

“Oh, sorry, honey. I was trying to lighten you up a little. You seem glum. Well, I am surprised because I believe one of her older brothers is like you. I’ll definitely have to call Peggy, now. You be sure to remind me when we get home.”

Millie’s brother a fag. Now, that was interesting. Obviously, he wasn’t a favorite brother. She probably would’ve hugged me and given me his phone number, invited me over to meet mother, “Here’s Geoff, the homo I was telling you about,” “Would you like some cookies and milk, gay boy?” “No thank you ma’am, I tossed some cookies in the cafeteria when I drank some sour milk.” I’d probably have to kiss her father and suck all her other brothers’ dicks. They’re probably so into all things homosexual, Millie hated me because she was being ignored at home. She always had to be the center of attraction. With that big ass of hers, it’s no wonder. It’s surprising the world didn’t revolve around her with all the mass she carried back there.

Doctor Baumgartner delivered me and didn’t cut my foreskin off. He didn’t cut Karl’s off either. He’d been a country doctor until suburbia moved out and took over his practice. We still went to him because Mother trusted him. What she didn’t know about boys and foreskins made Karl, then me, the center of attraction nearly every first day of PE. We stood out in a crowd. All the city boys with their bared heads and Karl and me embarrassed because we weren’t like them. I remember Karl telling me before I went into seventh grade about jock straps, undressing in front a room full of boys, taking a shower, and having to show off my dick to every boy in my class until Mr. Masterson threatened to give everyone three swats for making a big deal about something so tiny as a twelve year old dick with its foreskin still attached.

The good doctor made me strip down to my underwear before he cut off my casts. Then he washed my arm and leg with a warm soapy washcloth, “they don’t teach this in medical school.” Then he started to examine the scars from the knife wounds. When he got to my nipples, both of which were nearly cut off by Mr. Jones, he started to pinch them like he knew what he was doing.

“Do you have any numbness with either of these?” He asked.

“No, there’s a little tingling under the left one.” He was making me hard. I didn’t know what to do.

“Normally, we wouldn’t be concerned whether you lost these or not, but for a boy like you, there is a lot of stimulation here. I can see you’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Geoffy?

“No, why are you doing this?” I whispered. I was nervous. This wasn’t supposed to happen during an office visit. My doctor was not supposed to make me hard.

“Haven’t had a good pair of nipples between my fingers in years. I know you’re enjoying this, I have eyes, you know.”

I was sitting on the examining table and my briefs were not hiding my erection. Then he took my cock out and began to suck it. My doctor, the man who didn’t cut off my foreskin was giving me a damned good blow job. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I couldn’t believe he got me off so quickly. I couldn’t believe he swallowed. This man had to be in his fifties or sixties and he sucked my cock.

“Thanks, Geoff. I haven’t had a cock in my mouth since college, brings back some good memories. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No, sir, I don’t know what I would say,” I said. I couldn’t think of anyone I might want to tell. This wasn’t something you told other people about.

“I was like you when I was younger, only I figured once I got out of medical school I should get married and be straight like everyone else. It worked for a few years. Then I went to a high school reunion and ran into my old boyfriend. He’s a corporate lawyer down in Tacoma. Had a real nice wife. Wouldn’t say a word to me.

“Let me tell you something, Geoff, you can’t turn it off. You can’t get married and go straight. It doesn’t go away. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry.”

“Doctor Baumgartner, please don’t be sorry. You got me going rubbing my nipples. You know what that does to some guys. I don’t want you to be sad. If you want, I can make an appointment for a prostate exam. I’m sure you’d like that, too.”

He looked at me like I was some kind of crazy person, which I was and he knew that, but he gave me the strangest look.

“No, this did not happen. Period. This didn’t happen. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Doctor Baumgartner, please, I understand. I bet it’s been hard for you with all the naked men you’ve seen and not being able to touch them like you wanted. Nothing probably would’ve happen today if you hadn’t examined my nipples and I got a hard-on. If I was a straight kid, nothing would’ve happen. You know I’m gay and you know I enjoyed what you did. I know you’re not supposed to do what you did and you could get into a lot of trouble, but I’m not going to say anything to anybody. And, I wouldn’t mind coming back for a check up and letting you check the scarring in my rectum with your special tool. I know you’d like that. I just want to be nice to you.”

“No, Geoff, no. This didn’t happen and nothing is going to happen, again. Now, go home, please.”

He was devastated. All those years of hiding what he really was and it suddenly popped out on a sixteen year old boy with a raging hard-on he caused by tweaking my nipples. All I had to do was tell Mother and he’d have his license revoked and probably spend some time in jail. But, he was good. He was very good. I hadn’t had a blow job like that, ever. Me tell? Heck, I wanted to get his dick up my ass. That’s what I wanted. He definitely blew the wrong kid. He might have had grandkids, but I definitely wanted his dick and I was going to get it, too. He was going to give me that rectal exam whether he wanted to or not.

Johnny was bubbling over with excitement when I got home. This was his night. He was finally going to get me in bed with him. I had no idea what to expect from him. The only thing I knew was that he liked to rim Peter and have his cock sucked. I knew he really liked to have his cock sucked. He met me at the car when we drove up. He opened my door and I smelled shit. It was pouring down rain and he wanted to hug me. He smelled like shit.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” I said trying to get my books and get away from him. He was waiting for me at the backdoor. He looked so excited. I was probably the only thing on his mind.

“Did you wipe your ass today?” I asked. I stood there staring at him. “Did you? You smell like shit. Hasn’t anyone said anything? You smell horrible. I’m not going to bed with you smelling like that. Go take a shower, damn it!”

He stood there staring back at me. His lips were trembling. He looked scared as if he expected me to hit him.

“Go take a shower, damn it!”

He stood there blocking my way into the house. He smelled horrible, like a dirty diaper.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you hear me? Go take a shower. Now!”

He turned and practically ran into the house. Then I realized I’d gotten mad at him. I’d actually gotten mad at him. I’d gotten mad. I’d gotten emotional. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I was so happy. I’d gotten mad.

I was smiling I was so happy. Then I heard the shower upstairs. Johnny was actually doing what I told him. Maybe that’s what he needed. Somebody to tell him what had to be done, instead of saying, “Johnny you should wipe your own ass when you’re done.” Heck with that mollycoddling shit. That boy was going to learn to take care of himself if it was the last thing I did; and, I had the carrot. He wanted to have sex with me? Well, that boy was going to start taking care of himself, or no sex.

I went to find Peter. I was going to stop Johnny from having sex with everyone else, so I could be the carrot. I wanted that nice long dick of his and he was going to be clean. Peter wasn’t at home.

Sam was in his room, staring at the floor.

Doctor Randall was in his office doing paperwork.

“Hi, uh, can I talk to you?” I asked. He looked up. Then he looked at what he was working on. Then he looked at me, again.

“Why is Johnny taking a shower?” He asked. He wasn’t smiling.

“He didn’t wipe his ass and I told him to take a shower,” I said. “He smelled like shit.”

“Good.”

He went back to the paperwork.

“Is something wrong?” I asked. I knew something was wrong.

“Peter got some drugs from someone at school.”

“Is he in the hospital?”

“Yeah, he OD’d.”

“He’s not . . .”

“No, he’s not dead, but he won’t be coming back here for awhile. I don’t understand how he could’ve done that. He was doing so well. I thought he was responsible enough to be out on his own.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, just a little setback. These things happen. He’s an addict. You have to expect setbacks.”

“Can I go see him?”

“No, not today. Maybe next week sometime. I’m sorry.”

“I’m kind of worried about Sam. I was going to spend some time with Johnny tonight.”

“What’s Sam going to do?”

“He was going to be with Peter, but I guess he’ll be alone now.” No wonder Sam looked so sad. Kicked out of my bed and no one to be with him tonight. And, if I left Johnny, then Johnny would be sad.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “It’ll sort of kills two birds with one stone, so to speak. You see, Doctor Randall, I don’t mind sleeping alone, but those guys have been sleeping in the same room for nearly a year. They’re used to having someone close.”

“And, Johnny?”

“Well, I’ll have to talk to Johnny. It might take a couple hours, maybe three. Could you stall Mother on dinner? I want to make sure Johnny is okay with this.”

“I think he’s done with his shower. Talk to Sam on your way up because I don’t want to have to give him an injection.”

“Yeah, I guess I’d better.”

Sam definitely liked the idea of sleeping with Johnny. They hadn’t gotten along too well since Johnny punched him in the nose, but Sam was more than willing to make up if it meant having someone sleeping close to him.

“And, you have to tell Johnny to wipe his own ass,” I said. “We’re not babying him anymore. He’s got to start taking responsibility for himself.”

“Is Doctor Tim okay with this?”

“Yeah, I think he is.”

“Then you know what Johnny’s problem is.”

“No, I don’t, but we’ll work it out.”

“You’ve got to talk to him or it’ll blowup in your face.”

“I’m not going to be nice about this. He’s either going to start taking care of himself, or he’s not getting any sex from anyone, including you. And, I appreciate it if you guys didn’t do anything tonight, either. Nothing. If he wants sex, it’s either me or his hand. No one else. Not even Peter.”

“Doctor Tim told you?”

“Yeah.”

Johnny was still in the bathroom when I got upstairs. He was brushing his teeth. I never realized what a cute ass he had, of course, I’d never seen it from behind when he didn’t know I was looking. He came away from the sink and looked at me. He smiled.

“I brushed my teeth twice because I didn’t do it this morning,” he said. His flaccid cock was hanging down waiting for me. It definitely wasn’t as long as Kiel’s, who was way off the scale, but it was a little longer than Tim’s. It reminded me of Tim’s.

I leaned into him and we kissed. I reached up with my right, my recently useless, hand and brushed my fingers over his left nipple. He shuddered a little. His hands were unbuttoning my shirt. My left hand reached out and found his cock. It had grown a bit since I’d seen it last. My shirt was on the floor and Johnny pulled my t-shirt up and over my head, dropping it onto the floor. Both of his hands attacked my nipples. He wasn’t as experienced as Doctor Baumgartner, but he knew enough to make me get out of my pants and briefs. Other than my socks, I was naked.

“Come with me the spider said to the fly,” Johnny said taking hold of my erection and pulling me into his bedroom. The blankets on his bed were pulled back, but he’d also spread a beach towel on the carpet. Two choices. I liked that.

“I don’t know what you like,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry, I know what you like.”

He planted his lips over mine and I quickly found out Johnny had been hiding something from me. I’d swear his tongue was tickling my tonsils, if I had any. No wonder Peter had Johnny rim him. About the time I got over the shock of his tongue, Johnny was nibbling my left ear lobe. His hands were all over me: nipples, balls, cock, ass, ribs, back, everywhere. He was overpowering me with stimulation. I was unable to keep up.

My hands were trying their best to provide some counterbalance to the sensations he was giving me, but he was moving to fast. He was kissing me down my spine as his fingers worked down the front. When he reached the top my crack he veered to one side.

“Hands and knees, please,” he said. “There’s a big dog back here who wants you.”

I hadn’t noticed the bottle of lube until I saw it placed down beside me. Then I felt the familiar sensation of a cockhead at the gate. I relax and he came in, not waiting to say hello, or where should he go. He was in and heading for the opposite door. I tried to catch my breath, but he overwhelmed me with his assault. Then no sooner had he reached the end of his tether, he was pulling back out. I tried to breathe in rhythm to his pounding, but I could barely breathe at all.

The Johnny slammed into me and lay down on my back. He reached around and took hold of me. There was no waiting, no gradual buildup to a steady tempo. This was just a fast and furious as the assault on the backdoor, which wasn’t being left out, but at least the piston hadn’t stopped. It slowed as the strokes became shorter. On the other hand my cock wasn’t used to Johnny’s grip or his method and I couldn’t back the coming tide. I saw the first shot hit the towel below me, then the second, and the third hit the same spot. I couldn’t help thinking Johnny must have been practicing this to get all the come to hit the same spot. H couldn’t see my cock to aim it.

And, then, the piston returned. Only it was a slow piston this time. He still pulled out nearly all the way before pushing back in, but the rhythm was slow and paced. This was for him. This was his tempo. I decided to add a little spice to his mix and clamped down on his outstroke. His response was quick. He sped up.

Johnny reached around me and I knew the end was near. He pulled almost completely out then slammed in and slammed in and slammed in. I felt warm inside knowing he had enjoyed himself. He stayed inside for only a moment, then pulled out.

“Wait here,” he whispered. I heard water running and whistling. I didn’t catch the tune, but Johnny was definitely whistling. It was only a half whistle, more like humming through his teeth than actually using his lips. Then I felt a warm washcloth being applied where I needed it most.

“Go on and get on the bed,” he whispered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Johnny’s room was incredible. Everything was in its proper place. Everything was squared. Everything was so neat, tidy, confining, it made me feel edgy, irritable, but as my eyes surveyed his room I began to notice subtle deficiencies in the order of things. All was not perfect in Johnny’s world, or was that on purpose so that he could always be tidying, moving things about.

I heard the toilet flush and then, in a moment, Johnny reappeared, as bubbly as ever. He jumped onto the bed and turned his ass toward me. “See, clean,” he said proudly. Then turned and kissed me lightly on the lips.

“I want to thank you,” he said, lying down beside me and placing his hand over my half-hard cock. It was warm and made me want to, what?

What did I want from this boy who some times seemed almost as depressed as me, then was so giddy with joy and happiness it almost made me sick to watch him? Was I so in need of a boyfriend I’d take someone so childlike he had to show me he cleaned himself after taking a dump?

“No one has told me to take care of myself like you did,” he said. “It’s always been, ‘Johnny, you should wipe your own ass,” or, “Johnny, I’m tired of doing this for you,” but you told me to do it myself. I guess I needed that.”

“I suspect you’ll forget, though.”

“No, no, I won’t forget. No, I won’t. No, I won’t do that.”

“Johnny! Stop it!” I turned to my side and jostled his shoulder. He looked at me just like a little boy who’s been caught unpinning his little sister’s diapers again, so they droop and the shit tends to fall out. I put my arm around him and pulled us together. He was trembling and then I felt moister on my shoulder. He was weeping. And, he was clinging to me. He was so much like a little boy.

After a long while, he finally calmed down and released his grip on me and I felt his lips lightly press against my neck.

“Back?”

“Huh?”

“Is Johnny back with me?”

“I wasn’t anywhere. I was right here. Did you have fun?”

“It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah, you went a little too fast for me. I like to take things slower, but it was okay the way you did it.”

“Peter said you’d want me to fuck you hard and fast.”

“Peter said? Johnny, when are you going to do things on your own? After I came, you were fucking me just like I wanted, but I’d already done my bit.”

“I liked the way you tightened up. That felt great. Will you do that next time?”

“Yeah, sure, is there going to be a next time?”

“I hope so. I hope you’re not going to dump me after one fuck. You’ve got a great ass and I want us to do it again.”

“Now, is that Peter talking, or Johnny?”

“This is me. I like Peter because he knows so much about having sex.”

“But, don’t you see, that’s all he knows. Having sex. He doesn’t know how to feel good when you do it, how to go slow so the other guy is held on the edge. That’s what I like, to be held at the edge of an orgasm.”

“You mean like playing with the other person?”

“Yeah, having fun, enjoying yourself and the other guy. You had a lot of control when you were jerking me off, but you just took me to the top and that was it.”

“We’re going to have to practice that.”

“Well, now is as good a time as any.”

And, I turned around and took him into my mouth. He had a good cock for sucking, too. Not too big around and a long, slender head that fit my tongue perfectly. I felt him hesitate before putting me into his mouth.

“You like to suck cock, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I was just wondering if I should lick your other part. Peter likes that.”

“I don’t and I’ll never do it to you.”

“You won’t.”

“No.”

“Good, I like that. I think we’ve talked enough.”

And, my cock was enveloped in warmth. Only he gave me a little too much tongue and I jerked. Then I bit him. Then he did it again. Then I did it to him. And, Johnny rolled away from me giggling. After a short moment, he climbed over and lay down behind me. I felt his cock in my crack. He held me close to him as he began to hump me.

“Hush, I like to do this most,” he whispered in my ear. “Peter doesn’t even know this.”

His hand was on my erection. He was rubbing it slowly with the same tempo as his cock. We were going to his special place, a place where only he knew where the key was hidden. I gave myself up to enjoy the ride.

Mark called after dinner. I didn’t expect to hear from him for days, not hours. After the pleasantries and an uncomfortable bit about the weather and school he said, “I figured out where we can go.”

“Where?”

“My brother’s apartment.”

“Which brother? You have five.”

“Well, not Donny, he’s younger than me.”

“Which one?”

“Gary, the oldest one, you probably don’t know him.”

“Big red birthmark on the side of his face.”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“My older brother, Karl, hung out with him. He was my first fuck.”

“What?”

“Well not really, but pretty damned close. They were I guess twelve because I couldn’t have been more than six and I was being a pest hanging around Karl’s room. He told me if I didn’t leave they were going to fuck me. I didn’t leave so they knocked me down, pulled down my pants, and Gary went to town on my crack. He didn’t put his cock in me, but he certainly had fun riding my crack. I had a cute ass when I was little. Anyway, after a bit he came. I guess neither of them expected that because they seemed to make a big deal about it. Then my brother did it to me. Then they cleaned me up, but I wouldn’t leave. I told them they had to fuck me again.”

“He didn’t mention nothing about that when I talked to him about us going over to his apartment.”

“What do you think your brother is going to say, ‘Oh, yeah, Karl’s brother, I fucked him when I was twelve?’ I don’t think so.”

“Anyway, he said we can come over anytime and fool around.”

“Your brother knows you want to fool around with a gay boy?”

“Yeah, he’s gay, so what’s the problem?”

“He’s gay?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

“No, gawd, Gary is gay, wait till I tell Karl about this.”

“I don’t think it’ll surprise him. I saw them kissing once in Gary’s bedroom.”

“Well, I knew Karl was switch-hitting, but with Gary? Gawd, the things you find out about people.”

“Personally, I think it was more than switch-hitting.”

“What do you know?”

“I’ve seen letters from your brother at Gary’s. He has a picture of Karl on his dresser.”

“Do you think they’re in love?”

“I think they’re married.”

“Guys can’t marry guys.”

“Not here, but I think they can in Idaho.”

“Naw, that’s stupid. Why could they do it in Idaho?”

“I don’t know. Look, Gary and Karl are too buddy-buddy to be anything else.”

“So, like when do you want to do this?”

“I thought we could go over this Saturday afternoon. He’ll come and pick us up.”

“Your brother is going to take us to his apartment so we can do it?”

“Yeah, I said he’s okay with this.”

“Okay, Mark, but I’m going to be embarrassed as hell when Gary picks me up.”

“Ah, forget it. Just tell him you liked it when he fucked you.”

“Oh, he’s knows that already. That was the first time, not the last. For about a year those two guys couldn’t get enough of my ass.”

“Damn, my brother is a pervert.”

“A damned good looking one, too, as I remember. If I remember right, he had a great cock, too.”

“Hey, I got to go. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah, bye, Mark. You can call anytime you want.”

“Thanks.”

“Were you talking to Mark?” Sam asked. He was standing at my shoulder. I couldn’t tell if he was mad, or not.

“Yeah, we’re getting together this Saturday afternoon. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, why shouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you two were kissing yesterday at his house.”

“He told you?”

“Yeah, and Monica, too.”

“Oh, man, fuck!”

“Sam, watch that mouth!” Mother yelled from the kitchen.

“Sorry,” he said, loud enough for her to hear. He looked at me. He was still sad.

“Come on, let’s go up to my room,” I said.

Sam and I sat on my bed and talked about Peter, Mark, Johnny, ourselves, Doctor Randall or Doctor Tim depending on who was talking, and living here at the house instead of out at the filbert orchard. Yet, no matter what we talked about, Sam was still sad. I kept trying to get the conversation headed in his direction, but every time he suspected I was zeroing in on his reason for being out of sorts, he’d redirect the conversation away from him and off on a totally new heading. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know if it was him or his case.

We all had cases. Sam’s problem was his case involved the courts and whether he was sane enough to stand trial for the attempted murder of his sister. He’d been lucky to get into Doctor Randall’s program, and especially lucky to get permission to live at our house. It was a big step to allow a criminally insane teenager the freedom to actually regain his sanity to where the courts could step back in and determine how long he had to spend locked up in some stupid prison. If he stayed insane, he ran the risk of being sent to a state facility where his chances of coming out with any amount of sanity was fairly close to zero. Either choice would be enough to make anyone sad, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. For all I knew, he was sad because Peter wasn’t going to sleep with him.

After a while, Johnny came into my room and sat down on the floor under the Corsair. Sam nudged me, but I must have been somewhere other than in the room. He nudged me, again. I looked at him and he shook his head in the direction of Johnny. Such a simple boy, Johnny must have been oblivious to the overly pronounced bulge in his jeans. The way that thing was tenting it had to hurt. Those things were not meant to be bent like that. Then Sam did something totally unexpected.

“Hey, Johnny, you want Geoff to take that swelling away?”

I looked at Sam and he shrugged just enough for me to notice.

“What swelling?” Either Johnny was oblivious, or he had a sense of humor I was not aware of.

“Where’d you get the Playboy?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Johnny, what’s wrong with your pants?”

“Oh, my god, jeez, I’m sorry,” he said, getting to his feet and running back into the bathroom.

“Guess he still needs a little practice with the personal responsibility thing,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I guess he’s not paying much attention to anything about his body,” I said. “We’re going to have to pay a lot more attention to him.”

“What’s this we shit? You’re not roping me into your psychological reeducation program. That kid is all yours.”

“You’re sleeping with him tonight. That must be worth some sort of involvement.”

“Key word is sleeping. That is all Sam is going to be doing in that bed.”

“Unless he wakes up in the middle of the night and needs help with his swelling.”

“Then I bringing him over here and you can take care of it.”

“Hi, guys, what’s happening?” Doctor Randall said at the door.

“We’re waiting to see if Johnny comes back with an erection,” Sam said.

“Uh, huh, well how about a little chat?”

“About what?” I asked.

“Why don’t we start with Peter,” Doctor Randall said, coming in and sitting down on my desk chair.

“What about Peter?” Johnny asked, coming in and sitting back down under the Corsair.

“Oh, we’ve already talked about Peter,” Sam said. “You’re going to have to come up with a different subject.”

“What about Peter?” Johnny asked. “Is there something wrong with Peter?”

“You don’t know?” I asked.

“Know what?”

“Didn’t anyone tell him?” I asked.

“Tell me what?”

“I figured one of you guys would’ve told him,” Doctor Randall said.

“Tell me what? What’s happened to Peter?”

“Don’t look at me, I’m not telling him,” Sam said. “I’ve got enough problems as it is, without getting involved with a Johnny problem.”

“What problems do you have?” I asked.

“None of your business,” Sam said.

“What’s happened to Peter?” Johnny asked.

“He got a hold of some really good shit and OD’d,” Doctor Randall said.

Johnny’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he said, “He’s not supposed to do that. Is he going to get into trouble?”

“No, but he won’t be with us for a while,” Doctor Randall said.

“How long?” Sam asked.

“At least three weeks, maybe more. It depends on how well he does down at County.”

“They can’t help him,” I said.

“No, Geoff, Juvie.”

“Oh, violated his probation, huh?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam said. “They have a special program for juvenile druggies like Peter. He’ll back in three weeks. He knows how to play the game.”

“They changed the game since you and Peter were down there,” Doctor Randall said. “He’ll have a harder time this time around. I give him four weeks, five weeks tops.”

“Yeah, but Doc, he’s got some special talents for getting his way,” Sam said. “Three weeks, tops.”

“They changed the staff,” Doctor Randall said. “Homosexual patients are under female staff.”

“Hey, that’s cheating.”

“No, that’s playing the game correctly. I’m sure he’ll figure a way to work the system, but he’ll be up here by that time.”

“Johnny? Are you okay with Peter being gone?”

“Uh, huh, Sam is going to sleep with me and Geoff is going to do sex with me. So everything will be okay until Peter returns.”

I wanted to crawl under my bed and hide. He said “Geoff is going to do sex with me,” as if it was completely normal to announce who is fucking who around here. Was that part of his problem, too? He sounded too simplistic to me, almost as if he developmentally delayed or something. He was in his freshman year of high school, but talking to him he came across more like a seven year old rather than a fifteen year old.

“Sounds like Geoff is going to be pretty busy around here,” Doctor Randall said, winking at me, the same wink he gave me when I thought he was coming on to me early in our sessions.

“He might not be all that busy,” Sam said. “My guardian called me today at school.”

“He supposed to go through me,” Doctor Randall said. “He knows that.”

“My parents are petitioning the court to have me reevaluated so I can be tried for trying to kill my sister.”

“They can’t do that,” Johnny said. “They’re not your parents anymore.”

“Yeah, but they’re vengeful bastards who want their pound of flesh,” Sam said. He leaned against me and I put my arm around him. Maybe we were all going to be sleeping in the same bed tonight.

“Does he think you have any chances?” Doctor Randall said. “I’m thinking I might give him a call.”

“He said I should tell you to do that.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I did just now.”

“You could’ve told me when I picked you up at school.”

“You’d only get mad and wreck the car. Then where would we be?”

“I don’t drive that bad.”

“You haven’t sat in the passenger seat while you’re driving, either.” I said if only to get my two cents in. Sam giggled. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Does anyone have anything more to say?” Doctor Randall said. He stood up and stepped into the middle of the room. “Okay, then, group hug. Come on, you too Geoff. I know you’re not used to this, but it’s kind of a tradition with the other boys.”

And then the world suddenly slowed down. Johnny was standing up and steadied himself on the bookshelf. He must not have been aware where he was sitting because his came up under the shelf holding the Corsair. It toppled off the shelf, bouncing off his shoulder, heading toward the floor. We all watched it do a nose dive.

“Pull up, pull up, you’re going to crash.”

It didn’t.

We all watched the propeller snap off followed by the stand and the left wing.

I practically ran to gather up the pieces. The room was swirling as I got down onto my hands and knees and scrambled around searching for anything that might be a piece of the plane. I gathered them up and sat down close to Johnny’s feet. Then I surprised myself by starting to say, “Tim is dead. I know Tim is dead,” over and over like a scratched record.

I could see what was happening in the room, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was say, “Tim is dead. I know Tim is dead.” Johnny sort of floated over to the corner by the door to the bathroom and crumpled to the floor. He was crying, sobbing, blubbering. I could hear him, but I couldn’t do anything because I was weeping and saying, “Tim is dead. I know Tim is dead,” over and over. I couldn’t stop saying it. It was like part of my mind stopped paying attention to all the other parts, like it was stuck.

I watched Johnny fold up into a fetal position and put his thumb in his mouth. He was sucking his thumb. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but I couldn’t do anything about it because I had my own problem.

Doctor Randall opened his mouth and started talking, but the words were delayed like a badly dubbed movie. He said, “Sam go downstairs to my office and get my black bag. Hurry up, we haven’t much time.”

Sam stood up like he didn’t understand what Doctor Randall said. Then he wasn’t there, as if he disappeared, or my mind wasn’t picking up on all the stimulations because it was too busy trying to find the reset button.

We hardly ever saw the black bag. It was Doctor Randall’s medicine cabinet. I figured either Johnny or I, or both of us, were going to get an injection. I didn’t like having one because it meant I failed, like what was happening at that moment.

I didn’t want to be doing what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop weeping and saying Tim was dead. I didn’t know Tim was dead, but some part of my mind was convinced he was and it had control.

Sam returned and Mother was with him. First she looked at Johnny, then at me. She looked like she was going to start crying.

Doctor Randall opened the black bag and his mouth started moving, then came the words, “I’ll need help getting the boys to bed. There’s only three of us, so we’ll have to work together.”

I saw the needle go in Johnny’s arm then he seemed to soften, like his muscles and bones turned to jelly. They all helped getting him to his feet, but I didn’t see them leave with him. My mind was playing tricks with me.

Suddenly, I became aware of a burning sensation in my arm. I looked down and I could see the stuff going into my arm. It was a greenish fluid. Then everything went dark.

Next: Chapter 16: Tim and the Corsair 7


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