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.”