"Keep your mouth shut! I'm trying to think." I didn't like hearing that, but still I looked away to avoid eye contact and I didn't say anything else. He expected that of me when the other guys are around and I didn't want him to send me home. Not today of all days. Not until he makes up his mind about what I'd said. There were things about Mike that always made me want to hang out with him, but today especially. I'd known Mike for about six weeks and by now I was getting kind of familiar with what he expected.
Hell, I was use to being told to keep my mouth shut. And not just by Mike. That was no big deal by itself....it was just the way he'd said it that bothered me some. He said it like he thought I was a stupid pain in his ass and that isn't how I wanted him to think of me. We are both the same age, 16, but it seems like I'm always working hard trying to please him. Too often though I end up doing the opposite and annoying him instead! I'd made an exciting suggestion to him, but I also had been stupid and used poor judgment by blurted it out with all the guys around. I should have made my suggestion when we were alone. He treats me differently when it's just him and me.
I have regular friends too. Well, by regular I mean my buddies from my old neighborhood. I mean my old neighborhood when I was living with my mother. She lives in Melten, Pennsylvania...... a suburb of Philadelphia. I didn't have to try to please my buds there....we all got along in a regular way. That's all in the past though. A couple of months ago my mother wanted to move in with her asshole boyfriend and he said she could, but I couldn't. She choose him and sent me packing to my father.
Now I have to stay with my father here in Wildwood, New Jersey. It's a resort town and during the summer thousands of summer residence flock into town to enjoy the sun, the beaches and the boardwalk. There are some 'tough' sections of town and my father lives in one of them. He works at a casino in Atlantic City as a 'blackjack' dealer. I don't know why he doesn't live in Atlantic City where he works. I asked him and he said, " Because I don't, that's why". Very illuminating.....
Even before I had to move in with him permanently I'd been spending my summers here for the past six years. That's how long my parents have been divorced. Mother got tired of my dad slapping her in the face and so she divorced him. I'm tired of him slapping me in the face too, but I can't divorce him. Guess what though....as soon as I'm 18 years old, well then it 'sayonara' daddy! I'm outa here!!! As a father he ain't much. Mother wasn't much as a mother either, but at least she didn't smack me. Mostly she ignored me. She doesn't even have to do that now.
Usually I spend a very lonely summer here because I don't know anyone. Here, where my Dad lives, there are no kids even close to my age and my efforts to make friends on the boardwalk haven't ever been very successful. Those kids are only here for a few weeks vacation and then back to their own homes.......wherever that might be. Now that I'm here year round I felt desperate for a friend, but in the early going...no luck.
Then one hot day in June I met Mike. He was across from our house. I was on the little front porch of the old dump my father rents and calls home. I heard someone call out, "Hey, you! Come here a second." He was a tall kid. About six feet and lean, like me. He was sitting on a motor bike on the other side of the street. "Are you deaf? Come over here!" I squinted my eyes at him as I wondered who he was.
He agitatedly waved at me to come over to him and so I walked across and asked if he was talking to me. "Do you see anybody else around, numbnuts?" he asked sarcastically. He told me to hold the motorbike by the handle bars while he untangled his pant leg which had gotten caught on the kick stand. His dungaree pant leg was firmly attached to a part of the kick stand right where it screwed onto the bike. He did some cursing trying to get his leg free and ended up ripping a piece off the pant leg before succeeding. "Fucking piece of shit!"... The kid shouted as he kicked the bike and I almost lost my hold on it.
In a resigned, calmer voice, "Do you have a cigarette?". I told him that I don't smoke and he muttered something about me being a fag. He acted so tough, but he didn't look tough. His light blond hair was buzz cut and he had a small hoop ear ring in each ear. Other than that he had kind of a sunburned 'baby' face. I didn't know what to make of him. I asked him if he lived around here and he cocked his head a little bit to the side and said, "You're not retarded are you? What did you think? I flew in from far off, just me and my bike. Just so I could get my pants tangled up in front of where you live. Is that what you think?"
My jaw dropped open as I tried to absorb this unexpected rudeness. Why was he pissed off at me? I said, trying for humor, "Duh, does that mean you do live around here?" and I chuckled a little to show I was kidding. Boy, I thought....I must really be desperate for a friend...
He said nothing.....just pulled the bike away from my hands, stomped down on a lever and the bike roared to life. His back tire squealed loudly on the side walk as he took off. He'd neglected to say "thank you" for my help. Instead he ran over the my right foot. Surprisingly it didn't do any damage. Not that he'd care one way on the other. I had another chuckle as I walked back across the street thinking, "There is a very good chance we're not going to become best friends".
The high point of vacation season was upon us and that meant over 250,000 people crowded into the town that held just under 5,500 during off season...October to May it was kind of like a ghost town. During the summer it was difficult just to walk around. Not a great place to live if you ask me. So far.... nobody has asked me. My dad assigned me chores to do and he paid me to do them. Basically, I replaced the cleaning firm he'd previously employed to keep the four rooms and a bath reasonable clean. In addition, I made sure we had OJ and milk and a few food items he liked. Every morning I walked to a convenience store to buy him coffee and a Danish and cigarettes. Every morning! I also emptied trash and changed the bed linens and did the wash. I did everything. I spent about an hour a day, on average, with all these 'chores' and I was real conscientious about doing them right too. My reward was $50 a week if I did a good job and if I screwed up it was the aforementioned smack across my face.
Dad was tall and strong with a big gut. He was 48 years old, but looked older because of his gray hair and red scrunched-up 'drinkers' face. I liked my looks Ok as, happily, I took after my Mother in that regard. I have light brown hair and green eyes and a winning smile. Ha Ha.....If I do say so myself. The old man didn't look at me too much because I think I reminded him of Mom. He was not a lot of laughs. He thought I was OK as long as I did my stuff correctly and stayed out of his way. He never asked how my day went. Never asked me anything.
He worked the day shift at the casino which was easier than the night shift, but he got less tips during the day then he'd get if he worked nights. He didn't date woman (or men) and spent his evenings at a local bar drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. As near as I could figure out from the little he said, he liked arguing politics and shooting pool with his cronies. I was free to come and go as I pleased. He had his bedroom and I had mine.... although mine was a very small bedroom. Once in a while I'd fix us dinner to eat together, but usually we ate separately, what and
whenever we felt like. As a 'parental unit' he pretty much sucked. On the other hand.... I liked the freedom his lack of parenting allowed.
When I'd moved in with Dad for good my mom and me got me squared away with school for the coming fall, got my computer and my few possessions moved in and then she was pretty much done with me. No hug and no kiss.
"I'll call you sometime Richie, to see how you're doing. Don't piss off your father! He's not as nice as I am. See ya, Kiddo." And that was that. I took a while looking around the immediate neighborhood. I didn't spot any kids at all, never mind kids my age. Then, the next day I had my initial meeting with Mike and his bike.........the incident I just described above.
I didn't see him again for a week. Each day after all my chores were done I went walking. Block by block... I walked to get reacquainted with the neighborhood and see if there was anybody alive in this part of town who was my age. We lived too far from the beach and boardwalk to have many tourist here. Tourist rented closer to the ocean. These old places were for townies who did all the menial jobs to support the 250,000 tourist. That's 250,00 total people for the summer, not all at once. After I covered all around the neighborhood I started working my way toward the beach. The temperature was always near 90 degrees during the sunny part of the day.
A week into it my exploration I finally did reach the beach and the boardwalk. Total walking time was about 40 minutes from the house to the ocean. The ocean is big as you may know and right in front of it was a great wide beach that stretched as far as I could see in both directions. Just before the beach was the boardwalk which also stretched as far as I could see in both directions. I'd seen it all before of course, but it is all pretty impressive.
I went up the ramp to the boardwalk and there was that sunburned, baby-faced kid and his motor bike. I recognized him immediately. He was with two kids about our age who looked like bad asses. A skinny red headed kid and a mousey brown haired chubby kid. They both had buzz cuts just like babe-face, but these two each had a nasty tattoo or two plus the ear rings and two or three other piercings and most of all... an attitude.... Pirates, perhaps, is what they hoped they were protraying. Neither of these two had a baby face. They all wore jeans, black sneakers and T-shirts with different logos on them. I had on raggedy Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless T shirt and old sandals. I thought it best not to go up to them. If the bike kid had been alone I would have said "Hi", but the other two just had bad news written all over them. I turned around to walk back down off the boardwalk when I heard "Hey you! Numbnuts. Come here!"
"Fuck" I thought, but I turned around and walked over.
Sure, it was a long shot for being a potential friend, but it was something... maybe. Baby face said, "Well, if it isn't the smart aleck wise-ass. What the fuck you doing following me around? What, are you queer for me or something? You stalking me..is that it? Think I'm cute? Or what?"
Hmmm .... This potential friendship might be a much longer 'long shot' than I initially thought it would be. I said "No, no I'm not following you. I had no idea you'd be here." Right back at me... "What the fuck you talking about? I was here first and you show up. That is 'following' someone. Don't you know what the word means? " He asked that question as he grabbed a fist full of my hair and using his knuckles pressed against my head he was almost pulling my hair out by the roots. This kid was strong. My eyes started tearing immediately because this really hurt. "Please, man . That really fucking hurts."
Red head says, in his semi-lisping sounding voice, "This faggot following you around Mike?" That was the first time I'd heard 'baby face's' name. "Mike" used his other hand and pinched my nose real hard with his thumb and index finger saying "Well, ARE YOU following me around, smart ass... or not?" I was in pain and tears flowed down my face, not from crying, but just because of the pain. He continued to pinch my nose and now the nose pinch caused mucus to begin drooling out of my nose. It was hard to say anything but I said "nkew, I not follow yues". "What the fuck kind of language is that?" Mike asked with a fake concerned look on his face. He let go of my nose but deliberately and slowly dragged his index finger through the mucus all aong my upper lip and then down my top lip where his finger caught on the top of my bottom lip pulling it inside out and pressed down on my chin.... so my bottom teeth and gums were showing. He put his face real close to mine and looking sincere said "You have very white teeth." And he rubbed his dirty finger all along my bottom teeth and then up under my top lip across my front teeth.
The hair pulling almost had turned into a dull ache. I still couldn't move my head and both my hands loosely held onto the wrist of Mike's arm that was pulling my hair. I could smell the nicotine on the finger he was pushing across my teeth and now he pushed his finger in my mouth and all over my tongue. "Don't bite my finger numbnuts. You probably would like to bite my cock though, right?" I talked around his finger to say "No Mike, I don't want to bite anything. Really. Please let go of my hair." "Did I say you could call me Mike? Whats your full name numbnuts?" ..........I told him 'Richard Mealey' and he said .. "Richard? Are you shitting me? Richard? You are a fag, aren't you Richard?"
Why I didn't tell him my name was "Richie" I can't say. I've been called 'Richie' all my life. Maybe because he said my 'full' name. I don't know, but he had me totally fucked up. "My friends call me Richie" I said. "You going to buy us a pack of cigarettes Richard?" said the redhead, still using that strange lisping voice. Chubby and Mike thought this a grand idea and Mike said I could join their gang.... but, first I had to stop stalking him and I had to buy them a pack of Marlboro Lights 100s right now. "OK? Richard. Richard, OK?" I said "Yes. OK. Please let go of my hair." Mike let go of my hair with a shove on my shoulder and I almost fell down.
He looked at his hand and there were maybe a dozen of my hairs stuck to his fingers. "Get your hairs off my hand, Richard!" He held it out and I brushed his hand with mine knocking off the hairs. They floated away in the breeze. Then Mike to hold of my hand and held onto it like a boy and girl would hod hands.....he said, "Is this what you wanted to do, Richard? Hold my hand?" It felt so odd to be holding hands with another boy. He continued to look me in the eyes while holding my hand. I took a deep breathe and then another one....it was all so unusual I didn't know what to do. The whole mugging lasted less than two minutes, but my head ached.
Mike dropped my hand and said impatiently, like he was finally bored with the whole matter..... "Right over there Richard...that store sells everything including cigarettes. Marlboro Lights 100s. Don't forget, and don't think about trying to run off." Then Mike looked at his two buddies and shook his head saying, "Fuck, what am I thinking? He's not running anywhere. Are you Richard? You wouldn't have the balls." Using both hands he slapped me on both my shoulders too hard.
I said 'No, I wouldn't run off', and I started to head over to buy the cigarettes. "Wait a second Richard" Mike said as he was apparently getting his second wind..... "You're all sloppy looking Richard. You don't want to look all sloppy looking buying us cigarettes. Do you? Now just stand there and keep your hand at your sides and I'll straighten you up. Your hair is a mess Richard." With that he put both his hands on my head and started ruffling my hair. I lifted my hands to push his away and he got my jaw in a tight grip that hurt and told me to keep my hands down at my sides like I was told to do. Then he patted my head and ran his fingers all through my hair a number of times and up the back of my head two or three times. When he was finished with my hair it was all sticking up.... ....he touched all over my face with both his hands and was both gentle and rough about it from one touch to the next......and he squeezed my shoulders again and ran his hands up and down my arms and finally, using both his hands, he tugged up on the front of the waist band of my Bermuda shorts giving me a tight wedgie.
"OK Richard. You look good now. I got you looking all better. Run over and get our cigarettes and report right back here. Chop chop!" The oddest thing........my cock was almost bone hard. Thankfully it was covered pretty much by my T shirt. I didn't have a clue what to make of the boner!!
I walked over in a daze and brought the cigarettes getting a shock in the process. On the boardwalk they were $7.00 a pack. I'd never smoked and was only vaguely away that they were kind of expensive. Nothing to be done about it though; just pay for them and hopefully buy my release from Mike the bully. I wanted to get the fuck off that boardwalk. I handed the cigarettes to Redhead because he had his hand out.
"Richard, where are the matches? Go back and get the matches Richard. We can't smoke without matches. That's how you light a cigarette Richard. With a fucking match." Back I go and get the matches. Then it was everyone gets a cigarette.... including me. I have no fight in me and take the cigarette and the light. My first inhale almost has me passing out with coughing. How could that thin looking smoky air hurt my lungs so badly? Mike, Red and Chubby are laughing hysterically. They made me finish that cigarette and one more after it. I took little tiny inhales and blew it right out trying to keep it out of my lungs. Some got in my lungs anyway and I felt slightly nauseous.
"You smoke like a girl Richard. You're not a girl are you because you can't join our gang if you've got a cunt." I reassured him, "No, Mike...I'm not a girl." He said, "Ok Richard run along now.... your first gang meeting is over. Wasn't it fun, Richard?" I said, " yes, it was fun." I waited for a second and Mike went " Go, go... the meeting is over Richard." I slinked away slowly.... afraid they'd be something else, but there wasn't. I was down off the boardwalk headed for home. Mike didn't say "Thank you" this time either. I felt sick in a number of ways, but I couldn't think what to do about it.
Now I had to stay away from the boardwalk and that was really disappointing. I had big plans for re-exploring all up and down it's entire length. Amusement rides and a million different kinds of food stands and junk shops and beach supplies and salt water taffy and just everything you can think of was represented on the boardwalk. Maybe I'd even have met a friend. But for now I figured I better stay clear of there. I didn't want to run into my 'gang'. I watched out for Mike, but after a week I was less diligent and ran into him outside the convenience store while I was going for the morning coffee, Danish and cigarettes for my Dad. I just wasn't paying attention.
Red head and Mike were coming out of the store and Mike's bike was right there to be seen if I hadn't been in a fog. "Richard! Richard! Richard! You missed the last gang meeting. Where ever do you hide Richard? We haven't seen you around in ages." Mike was getting up close to me as he was saying all that. He and I are lean and I'm about 5'10" so he's about two inches taller. I have to say he seems quite a bit stronger than me if our first encounter is any indication. I immediately started getting flustered. He walked right up to me and I tried to say "Hi." but it caught in my throat and came out like a squeak.
His chest was bumping my chest when he said, "Richard, I asked you a question." Before I could answer he grabbed a fist full of my crotch. His fist had both my nuts and a part of my cock and he squeezed tight. "Please Mike..that is wicked painful." I grunted out as I bent at my waist. Mike massaged my crotch a little, but more gently then his first grab. When I'd caught my breathe and relaxed slightly he put his other hand behind my head and pressed it against his chest. He rubbed up the back of my head a few times then let go of my head saying quietly to me, "Am I hurting your nuts?" I started to straighten up an ask him to let go of my nuts when, he used the hand that had been rubbing my head to grab the waistband of my shorts. I was wearing flimsy nylon basketball shorts and with that tight grip on the shorts he pulled me up tight against him . In the same quick motion he let go of my balls for a split second, then quickly grabbed onto my cock with two of his fingers and his thumb. Every unexpected thing he did had me off balance and at his mercy. Using two fingers and his thumb he stroked up and down on my flabby cock a few times.
"Hows that feel Richard? Good? You know, Tony here says you had some tenting in your britches the last gang meeting and I says...Tony, you think Richards some kind of queer or something?" Mike was gently stroking my cock as he talked and I was getting the beginning of a boner and gasping for air. His strong hold on my waistband kept me tight up against him.. Our faces rubbed together. I couldn't move away from him and his continual gentle massaging of my now totally hard cock had me grunting and blushing like crazy. My faced burned bright red. My hands were gently holding onto his waist. It almost seemed as if I should put my arms around him. I was fully boned and Mike was doing full, swift strokes on my boner from the outside of my thin silky shorts. The head of my cock had slipped out of the pee slit of my boxers and was rubbing against the inside of my silky shorts with each stroke of my boner and the sensations all around my groin had me squirming in his grasp..
"Jeez, Richard, are you fucking deaf? I ask you how this feels." All I could say was "Please don't...Ahh ohh! Please stop" We were very close together with him pulling me into him by that strong waistband grip. I could smell his cigarette breath on my face. I was aware of Mike and my cock...that's about it. He held me there like that for a couple of minutes and I began to feel the most erotic feeling I'd ever felt. He quickened his strokes and I knew that there was no chance now that I was going to be able to stop my organism. I was very close to cuming. "Please stop Mike...I'll buy you another pack of cigarettes..Ahh Ah Ah Ah..." I couldn't even talk anymore and went up on my toes as the feeling in my groin over came me.
His face touched the side of mine and he whispered "How does this feel Richard?" I was beyond talking as a squirt of cum shot out of my boner and quickly stained through my pants. "Aghh ohh" and another long squirt as I just gave up and squeezed three smaller squirts into my pants." I was pretty much laying against Mike's body by now. Redhead (Tony) squealed "Look at that. The fag just cam in his pants." A couple on the other side of the street looked over, but they couldn't have heard what Tony said or imagined in their wildest dream what was going on.
Mike held the waistband for another minute as he breathed in and out with short, hot bursts and then slowly let go of me and said, in a breathless voice "Did you just cum in your pants Richard?" For the first time in years I felt like crying. I had a big wet spot on the front of my pants. I think maybe even Mike was embarrassed for me this time. He left it at that. None of us knew what to do next. Mike started to turn away but did one last grab of my head in between both his hands and looked at my face. "Look at me, Richard. You OK?" I just barely nodded my head up and down. I couldn't decide what that look in his eyes meant. His parting remark was " Geez, Richard, I didn't know I turned you on so much. Don't miss our next gang meeting Richard. OK? .... OK?" I just nodded my head again and turned around and went back to the house to change my pants.
The humiliation was huge, but it only involved Mike and Tony. I rationalized that I didn't care what those two thought....fuck them! But, I still had to consider that I cam in my pants being jerked-off by another boy....and I cam quicker than I ever do when I jerk myself off. No one has ever touched my cock, that I knew of, except me. Until now. Well, technically Mike hadn't touched my cock except with my boxer shorts in between; not with his bare hand......as if that was important. I shook my head realizing that Mike's second grab had been a lucky one to get my cock in just the right position enabling him to jerk me off like that... I was jogging back to the house now, anxious to get out of my cum soaked pants.
My Dad was in the shower when I ran into the house so I avoided a slap in the face at least. I was quickly changing my shorts and underwear thinking of Mike's hand around my cock and I started to spring another boner......what the fuck??!! I'm not queer. I also didn't want to think about it. I ran back to the convenience store to get the old man's breakfast stuff. My goal was to completely forget about the jerk off and I was actually able to do that for a short while, but unfortunately not for very long. I didn't hate Mike and I thought I really should. This was a big concern. Why didn't I despise that bastard?
Why didn't I? I tried to figure out what it was all about. A totally new experience that was really beyond belief. Mike being gay did not seem likely. More likely he's is one of those gay 'basher' guys. It wasn't a subject that ever came up in my circle of friends. When I had friends, that is.... we didn't know gay guys OR gay bashers.
Analyzing the gay angle I thought of my two best buddies and me having a few circle jerks when we were about 13, but that didn't last because Dougie said it was too queer. I don't recall being particularly disappointed. No one has ever touched my cock except me. Then I tried to figure out what I think about when I jerk off?? Hmmmm?...what do I think about? I guess, nothing....I just think about how it feels. Maybe I should be thinking about girls. I don't think about boys... at least. When I finished my morning chores I took my normal long walk and thought about Mike jerking me off and it consistently gave me a stiffy. It also scared the hell out of me. I know I don't want to do anything with a boy except be a friend.....right?
In the bathroom later that afternoon before my shower I had my usual wank and it was feeling good...I wasn't thinking about anything in particular except how good it felt to play with my cock. Then, as an experiment, I thought of Mike wanking me off that morning and my cock swelled and quickly I was grunting and fisting my cock in a blur and shot off a stream of cum that came out with such force it burned my pee hole. Now I was really scared and I am embarrassed to say I cried a dumb cry for a minutes or so. I don't know why, I just did.
Over the next few days I went 'on line' for hours at a time trying to find out what was wrong with me. Sadly, there wasn't anyone I could talk to about this.
I did 'Buddy List' ICHAT with quite a few kids from the old neighborhood, but none of them were gay....as far as I knew anyway. There is an enormous about of information on line, but that became part of the problem. Seemingly conflicting information from one site to the next. Many so called facts were really just someone's opinion. It wasn't really a help. I was still in the dark. Did a single encounter with another boy jerking me off change me into a homo?
I tried thinking about other boys while jerking off and the results were inconclusive. Thinking about Mike while jerking off however, was definitely conclusive. I cam like a faucet......and it felt awesome. The feeling didn't last long though because I didn't want to be gay. I made myself think of anything but Mike when I wanked, but usually something about him popped in my mind somewhere along the way to my inevitable sperming. Damn! After a week I stopped trying to analyze the whole mess and concentrated on another plan. I wanted to run into Mike again and see if whatever happened, and I really had no expectations of what might happen, but maybe whatever it was that did happen might clear up something .... ...anything. I guess I just wanted to see him again... It wasn't much of a plan. Find Mike.
He wasn't around. Neither were Redhead or the chubby one. I was back on the boardwalk again and I was free to explore it from end to end because now I didn't care if I did run into Mike. In fact, I wanted to run into him. No luck though. So many God Damn people walking the boards and I didn't know even one of them.
I was beginning to have real lonely periods..... not really depression I don't think, but I was sad and very lonely. I realized how much my friends had meant to me back home. My old home. They were my substitute family. Now I couldn't help but notice they already were paying less attention to me on IChat then when I first moved here........and it had only been a short while. They talked about the 'chick' that moved into my mothers place after my mother and me moved out. She was hot! The chick, not my mother. My old friends were moving on and leaving me behind. There wasn't anything I could do about it except feel sad and lonely and I already did feel that way. Life really, really sucks!!
I hadn't seen Mike or his 'gang' for five days as I was near one end of the boardwalk just checking it out. This section was old and run down. A couple of real bad ass looking dudes about 25 years old were painting the front of a hot dog stand. Both guys had tattoos and piercings and mean looking faces. They may have been Hispanic. The heavy set one looked over at me and said "What the fuck yuse looking at you skinny mother fucker?" I stared at him a second and thought to myself 'I hate this God Damn town'.... what I said was "Not much..." and he said "Come on over here I wanna show ya sumthing". I started to turn away and saw Mike walking toward me from half a block away.
He was wearing cool blue sunglasses and eating a cone of soft ice cream. "Richard... come toward me. Don't go near those assholes." I just stared at him. He had just gotten a fresh buzz cut and his sunburn had turned to tan. He had a natural swagger as he slowly walked towards me. When I looked at him I thought, for the first time, that he looked very cool, wicked sharp.
He wasn't looking at me, but rather at the two tough guys who were still holding paint brushes. In a much sterner voice he said, "Do what the fuck I told you to do Richie!" Richie? He called me 'Richie'. I stared at him a second longer and then drifted towards him slowly. "Hey, Sullivan", the younger looking Hispanic guy yelled, "your old man and your chicken shit brother still in jail?". Mike yelled back at him in a neutral sounding voice, saying "My bro plea bargained out of that shit. Which reminds me, Jose...my bro was wondering if your Mother is still giving out the $2 blow jobs down Atlantic City under the boardwalk?". Both the Hispanic guys dropped their paint brushes and started running towards us at an alarmingly fast pace. Mike said to me, "Run your fucking ass off Richie...follow me!" I didn't hesitate because I just knew he wasn't kidding around.
The two painters were thundering up the boardwalk closing in fast..... they were motivated and pissed off in a major way.
After five steps Mike had doubled the distance between him and me. He was definitely running with a purpose.
He went down a ramp ten yards up on the right. I ran, pumping my arms as hard as I could, but the painters had made up half the distance between us already. I couldn't believe guys that big could run so fucking fast! At the ramp I almost fell over making the turn. Mike was just stomping down on the lever to start his motor bike. It started right up and he was looking back for me. "Faster you dumb fuck! They'll put you in the hospital! Jesus Christ..RUN!" I ran faster then I thought I could run and got to the bike slowing up just enough at the end so that I could hop on the narrow seat extending from under Mike. He yelled "Hold on around my waist, tight!" I held on to his waist, but I just used my hands as he began a wicked fast pull out.
The centrifugal force had me immediately ...... I was going off the back of the bike because my hand grip on his sides wasn't strong enough to hold me on. I was sure I was a goner when Mike whipped his left arm behind him and around my back and pulled me up against him, hard. I could feel the strength in that arm and see the bulging muscle. He saved me from falling off backwards, but the motion shifted our weight on the bike to the left and the bike was going down to crash on it's left side. Mike grunted loudly as he jerked his weight to the right, pulling me upright with his effort, and at the last possible second balanced the bike and off we roared. The painters had gotten within ten feet when Mike got us up straight and roaring off. One of the Hispanic guys hacked up a luggie and hocked it at us and I felt some of the spit spray on the side of my face as it whizzed by. They screamed curses and threats at us, but we were gone.
Within two minutes we were on a straight road that looked like it went forever. In Jersey you can get on a stretch of flat land that goes for miles and miles. Mike was traveling at a high speed now and on that motorbike it seemed we were almost ready to take off in flight. I was hugging Mike around his stomach tightly now and my chin was on the back of his shoulder. He had to be feeling my heart pounding against his back. That was as frightened as I've ever been. I came close to a number of disasters in a short period of time and Mike had saved me from each one. Mike... "Sullivan", apparently. Sullivan...he must be Irish. And he had called me 'Richie' instead of Richard.
It was cool flying down this back road without another living soul in sight. We had been passing corn fields for miles...the rows were a blur as we roared by. I didn't know why Mike was riding us way out in farm country, but I realized I was really having fun. And another thought drifted into my mind too...it was that it felt wonderful to hug Mike just like I was doing it now. I tried to remember the last person I hugged this tight and nothing came to mind. I took my chin off Mike's shoulder and rested the side of my face against the back of his neck and just below on his back a little bit. He smelled good. Just because I felt like doing it, I readjusted my arms around him a little lower on his stomach and hugged real tight. My boner came right up and pressed high up on his bum. I had to shut my eyes tight because a feeling swept over me that was intense and new.........and awesome. All around my crotch and stomach and upper thighs felt like that sensational tingling I get before I climax, before I cum. I'd never gotten this feeling any other time except when I jerked off. Now I had it from just hugging Mike as we rode along on his bike. I didn't cum, just enjoyed the pre cum feeling as we flew along that back road.
He took us out for the better part of a half hour and then made a lazy big U-turn and headed back the same road we went out on. Going back he went just as fast as the trip out. He never said a word. By the time I started recognizing landmarks we'd been riding for almost an hour. I couldn't remember enjoying any other hour any more than I enjoyed this one. He took me right to the spot, across the street from my house, where I first met him. I let go of him and swung my right leg over to get off and fell right on my ass. After an hour on the back seat of the motorbike, in that one position, my legs didn't act the way they should. I laughed and looked up at Mike who had a scowl on his face.
"My legs are numb, all pins and needles", I said with a smile, as I stumbled to my feet. Mike waited a few seconds before spitting out, "Don't ever go near that section of the boardwalk again Richard. Those guys hate us whites with a fucking passion." With that he started to pull away. "Wait Mike, please wait a second. I want to thank you, man. You really saved my ass. And thanks for the ride. I really loved it. It's the only fun I've had since I moved here". Mike looked at me for a second and said "You live here Richard? I thought you only stayed for the summer. That's what you did in past years".
I was confused. Mike knew I was here in past summers?
I don't ever remember seeing him. "Yeah, my Mom kind of threw me out so I'm here full time now with my old man." "You going to the High School this Fall?" Mike asked. I told him I was and asked him if he wanted a Coke or something to drink. He said, "Yeah, I'm fucking thirsty. Walk the bike over and don't drop it or I'll drop you." With that he started across the street toward my house. It was a bitch trying to walk
his bike off one curb and across the street and up the other curb. It was much heavier and harder to push than it looked like when he did it. When I'd made it across the street I put down the kick stand and delicately balance it and it stayed up. Mike never even looked back,
I brought two cokes and some potato chips out to the tiny front porch and Mike drank his coke in two long pulls. He must just let it roll down his throat. I have to do a deliberate swallow for every mouth full. Mike ignored the potato chips and lit up a cigarette. He sat on the railing looking at me. After a minute I said "What?" He shook his head like he was saying 'never mind', but I said "No really, what?" Mike said "If you want to be in my gang you got to have a buzz cut." He held the cigarette in his lips and talking around it said "Come over here." I walked the three steps to stand in front of him.
He said "Just stand still", and with one hand behind my head he used the other hand to lift the hair off my forehead and push it back away from my face, flat on the top of my head. "There, you look good that way. Not so faggy." His cigarette smoke was burning my eyes so I squinted them almost closed and looked at Mike through slits in my eye lids. For the first time in my life the thought that another boy was 'cute' entered my mind. I thought, 'Mike is wicked cute'. He held onto my head for another 10 seconds or so and then let his hands drag across my face as he let go. I smelled the nicotine on his fingers just like that time on the boardwalk.
I stayed in front of Mike and just looked at him through my slitted eye lids until he said, "Well, you going to be a member of my gang or not?" I said "Yeah, sure...thanks Mike." He said "Get the buzz cut", and turned around and walked off the porch.
He didn't look back. Started his bike and did a wheelie off the sidewalk leaving some tire marks. I had another boner. Now I definitely had someone to think about when I jerked off. No sense ignoring the fact that he made my dick hard. I thought about Mike every time I jerked off and the cum was flying out of my cock twice as much as ever before. I use to jerk off once or twice a day and I doubled that and was always thinking about doing it or actually was doing it. It put a lot of HOT in my life.
I thought about this gay attraction I had for Mike and went back to spending a lot of time on the Internet trying to find similar situations to mine. I was convinced that I was just gay for Mike.... that other than Mike I was just a normal heterosexual, regular guy like I always thought I was. Needless to say I couldn't find any collaboration of this theory. The Bi Sexual category didn't fit. Nothing fit. I was very confused about it. Mike was always doing stuff to my body, but he was the one always calling me a faggot ........as if he wasn't one and didn't like them at all. More confusion! I didn't get the buzz cut and I didn't see Mike for a couple of days.
Then on a Tuesday I looked out my window after I'd finished my chores. I thought I'd heard a motor bike sound. Sure enough, there was Mike across from my house again. He had come to see me. What other reason could he have for being here. I had a big smile on my face as I ran out the door to say 'hi'. When I yelled it across the street he said nothing, but he shook his head back and forth like he was disappointed about something, but not surprised about it. I said "What?" and Mike yelled for me to get over there. I trotted over and said 'hi' again and that I was wicked happy he stopped around. He stared at me, but didn't say anything. He opened his eyes wide and sort of shook his head a little...it was like he was prompting me to say something. I said, "Sorry Mike, but my old man don't want me to get a buzz cut. He says that kind of haircut is for white supremacist groups which he is opposed to in a big way."
Mike sat on his bike and thought about that as I just stood there not knowing what to do or say. Finally he said, "don't matter anyway because the guys say you are definitely queer." I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Finally I said, "What?" And then after a few seconds, "Why would they say that? They don't even know me." Mike made a face like he was thinking about that and said, "OK...I can give you the test and it will prove it one way or another. Bring the bike across to your house." Test? I struggled just as much with that damn bike this time as I did last time.
Motor bikes are fooking heavy and awkward to maneuver. I asked what the 'test' was and Mike said we should get another Coke first. I brought two cokes out and as I drank mine I sat up on the porch railing at the corner of the porch.
Mike finished his Coke just as fast as he did the other day and walked over to stand in between my legs.
"Just sit up straight right there" he said as he took my Coke from me and finished it in one long swallow. He used both hands to move my legs far apart, each leg up against the railing... and I started to fall backward off the porch. My arm flailed out and grabbed the only thing I could...Mike. I got him around the neck and held on. He moved his hands up the inside of my thighs and stopped at the bottom of my Bermuda shorts. I thought, "Oh no, not again." and I said, "Please don't grab my cock again Mike. That's no test because anyone would get a boner if his cock was massaged."
Mike just squeezed and rubbed the inside of my thighs.
I readjusted to a tighter grip around his neck and now our noses brushed against one another when either of us moved. His breath was in my face and it smelled like cigarettes and Juicy Fruit gum. Mike was taking little short breaths, but not saying anything. His face was a little bit red and his eyes were shiny.
"Let me get down Mike, please. I'm going to break my head open on the brick walk if I fall backward off this railing." I was wearing an old pair of Bermudas that I had on to do the chores. The legs were short and baggy. Mike slid a hand up each leg opening and rubbed my cock and balls through the outside of my boxer shorts. "Oh God, Mike...Don't do this..Please" I gasped as my boner came right up. Mike's forehead touched my forehead and I moved my face against his and it felt so good I couldn't suppress a moan. I rubbed against the perspiration on his face. It felt sexy. He slowly stroked my boner as he lightly squeezed my balls with his other hand. "Ohh fuck! Mike Please! AHH AHH OHH AHHH.." He stroked my boner lazily as if he was thinking about something else. He got a nice easy rhythm stroking up and down on it. He'd done this once before and I was scared, but this time I couldn't help but think how fantastic it felt. Shortly I started a little humping against his hands as I felt my balls tighten up.
He had me so hot I didn't even try to hold off. He was relentlessly stroking my boner as our faces bumped together and I hugged him around his neck. It was the most intimate thing I've ever been involved in. He stroked my cock and stroked my cock and massaged my balls ...sometimes lightly and then a hard squeeze. It felt so good...... Indescribably good. I let out a long moan this time and relaxed as the cum streamed from my pee hole and splashed inside my boxers and then again and again with another moan and finally a few lesser spurts and I felt like I was going to black out. I felt completely spent...faint...dizzy. It had only taken a little over two minutes for me to shoot my load in my pants. I wish it could have lasted longer.
I just started slipping off the railing. Mike pulled his hands out of my shorts and put them around my back and hauled me onto the porch floor and against him. It felt like a big hug to me... and then he let go. "You flunked the fucking test badly, Richard." I quietly said it wasn't a fair test and that he would cum in his pants too if I did the same thing to him. He just said, "No fucking way! You're the fag, not me." and he headed for his bike. "That wasn't fair, Mike!" I yelled, as I began to recover some of my strength. I was headed inside to change my pants when Mike yelled back at me, "Yeah, OK...maybe it wasn't completely fair. We'll take a ride and talk some more about it." I should have told him to go fuck himself, but I was really hooked on him so I just said OK. I thought to myself I'd love to hear how he was going to justify this as a test of my being a fag.
After changing I got on the back of his bike without either of us saying anything. I may have been pouting a little bit as I hugged around his waist and off we went.
Mike didn't speed and in 15 minutes he pulled into the town's Middle School playground. He parked the bike and walked over to sit on a swing. I sat on the one next to him and waited. We both pushed off a little with our feet so that we were swinging a little. It was a hot day in June and we were the only two people there. I looked at him and thought how sharp he looked, even the buzz cut looked good on him. I looked at his hands as he held onto the two chains of his swing seat and thought.....he just wanked me off with those two hands. A little of my spunk must still be on his hands.
Mike said "OK, I thought about it and you are right. That don't prove you are or aren't queer. It's just what we guys always thought would prove something, but now...after doing it I think it's stupid. I want to make a pact with you. That's what I wanted to talk about. The pact is this....I never mention you cam in your pants again and you never mention anything about the test to anybody at all, ever. Including to me. Let's just forget about it forever. You can hang out with me sometimes, but you can't be a member of the gang because of the buzz cut. Fair enough?" I said, "Sure, Mike. Do you think you and me can be friends?" He said he didn't know about friends, but I could hang out with him and we'll just see. We didn't talk about anything else. It all felt really strange and awkward because it fucking was strange and awkward. He gave me a ride back and I said thanks...like he'd done me some favor. Somehow he made me feel like I did something wrong and he was forgiving me. It was just those kind of vibes he gave off....I guess. On the ride back I decided to do what he said and forget about it. At least I get to hang out with him from now on.
I got into the routine of doing that 40 minute walk to the boardwalk each day after my chores. I'd go to the spot where I first ran into Mike and his 'gang'. This was their official meeting spot. The two original boys, Tony (Red head) and the chubby one (Mac) were always there and then there were another 5 or 6 guys who showed up a couple of times a week, but not on a regular schedule. They all did have buzz cuts, but so did a lot of kids who weren't in Mike's 'gang'. It was mostly talking among ourselves, smoking cigarettes, buying food and drinks and a lot of harassing of passers by. Especially girl passers by or old people or fat people.....everything made all of us laugh hysterically. Mike was in charge and decided when we'd roam up and down the boards or when we'd do anything really.
Red head Tony and Chubby, who was called 'Mac' turned out to be sweet guys who just weren't that bright. They looked like outlaws but were really choir boys in disguise. They laughed at everything I said and seemed to really like me a lot. Everyone was subservient to Mike but that was fine with me. Maybe everyone had a crush on him. I know I did. Being honest though, I don't think the boys were gay at all....they seemed genuinely hot for the babes, although the babes they could attract just barely qualified as 'babes'. I liked Tony and Mac although you probably wouldn't want to spend hours at a time with the lads.
As for Mike, he was moody and sometimes mean spirited.
He was hard on me and was quick to make me the butt of a joke. For no reason he'd try to humiliate me or embarrass me. Most of the time he ignored me. In addition to Tony and Mac, I got along with the other guys because I never disagreed or argued with anyone. I smiled a lot and went along with the jokes. So all that was not too thrilling I'll admit, but there was a very good part to my new activities. Three or four times a week Mike would say, "I'm taking the fuck off. I got stuff I got to do." Then to me he'd ask "Need a ride dickhead? I'm going that way." I always said yes and would get right on behind him and off we'd go. He'd drive to all kinds of places.... from a little known small beach to that school playground to places on the bay and anyplace that was secluded. Mike like to have conversations.
Mike said I was the only one with any brains, besides him, and he wanted to know what I thought of many things. Religion, politics, movies, music, life after death, UFOs and tons of philosophical topics. We'd talk for a couple hours at a time. He wouldn't talk about himself or his family life. I knew he had a job working for a tomato farmer from early morning to early afternoon, but not every day. Just when he was needed. His mother worked at that farm full time. That is the extent of what I knew about him. We'd go for soft drinks and soft ice cream. He never was mean or rude to me when it was just the two of us, but he decided everything we did. It was more than fine with me. He quickly became the person I liked the most in the world..... even though that wasn't really saying much if I thought about it. I refused to say to myself that I loved him, but he was very much on my mind at all times.
I wanted, in the worse way, for him to give me another 'test', but I couldn't possibly bring up the topic. My favorite times of all were the times he showed me wrestling holds. He was a junior varsity wrestler in High School and he was pretty good it seemed. I was always asking to learn more holds and the body contact was fabulous. I am not an idiot...I knew he liked the contact as much as I did and we held some of the 'holds' for quite a while. We'd both have wicked hard ons and be breathing fast with our hearts pounding. Mike was in charge though and I waited to follow his lead. I loved being with him and couldn't believe I'd ever hated living here in Wildwood. It was my favorite place in the world now. But I was still always longing for Mike to do another one of his special 'test' on me. He never did and neither of us ever brought up the first 'test' because Mike and me had made a pact not to.
On any given day we might have a fabulous conversation and then an intimate wrestling match which would leave us red faced and panting. And then, the next day with the 'gang', he'd be back to treating me like shit. I'd known him for about six weeks and already 3 times he'd sent me home. Hard to believe, but he'd get pissed at me and say "Get away from here you asshole. You don't have to go home...you just can't stay here!". I hated that. I went home because I had no where else to go. After the third time I tried to analyzed what I'd done to get him to dismiss me like that. I thought back to what was being talked about and what I'd said and so forth... as it turned out, each time I'd done or said something that might have appeared to Mike like I was agreeing with or siding with someone other than him. Like I took sides against him... I guess. Little things like who was a better ball player or what car was the hottest. I'd agreed with someone else's opinion. That's when he'd get wicked pissed at me and away I'd go. The next day all was forgiven, but it was humiliating to me at the time to say the least.
I wacked off pretending it was Mike wacking me off and blew big loads of cum. It felt wonderful and I shot off at least three times a day. At least three times..... and always with a picture of the sunburned baby-faced, buzz cut Mike in my mind. Boy oh boy did I have a thing for Mike. Then at about the six week point we were on the boardwalk and Tony tells me Mike's house had a fire and thankfully no body got hurt. The thing was that Mike, his mother and brother couldn't live there for a month or so while it was being repaired. They were living with his mother's sister.
Later that day Mike comes roaring up and he is pissed.
He's bitching and moaning about sharing a pull out sofa bed with a fat cousin....he bitched about one bathroom for 8 people...about there not being enough seats for everyone to watch TV or eat meals etc etc. A fooking nightmare of living conditions and for at least a month. All the guys are saying how bad they feel about that ...tough shit and that sucks etc..I'm saying the same kind of things too. Then I start thinking and wondering if my old man might go along with an idea I was getting. It was my father's off day so I wandered over to the pay phone and called him. We talked for thirty seconds...he didn't care. It was my responsibility if something got fucked up. I thanked him profusely and really meant it.
Back over to the guys and I was excited and as soon as there was a break in the conversation I blurted out, "Mike, you can bunk down with me if you want. It's only my old man and me and I never see him much at all. He is always out. I just called him and he said it was OK. You can sleep in my bed and I'll use my sleeping bag." Mike looked at me and I could see the initial interest in his eyes, but I also realized he quickly got wicked pissed off too. I shouldn't have brought this up in front of everyone. "You can sleep in my bed" Oh Fuck!! What was I thinking??
He looked at me with a hard look on his face, but said nothing. My hopes had been soaring there for a second! The possibilities of wrestling in bed with Mike had my dick getting a stiffy. Now, I was a little worried and I was getting impatient and so I said "Well, Mike what do you think? Naturally you could come and go as you....." Mike thrust up his hand and said, "Keep your mouth shut! I'm trying to think!" I didn't like hearing that, but even so I looked away to avoid eye contact and didn't say anything else. He expected that of me when other guys are around and I didn't want him to send me home. Not today of all days. Not until he makes up his mind about what I'd said......
Part 2 ??
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com