Saturday morning, Bill was waiting for me at a quarter to nine, fifteen minutes before we were supposed to meet. I half considered telling about my problem and asking if he could find me a place to live if things got bad and I had to run. The conversation never got to where I felt the courage to bring it up.
'So what do you think about a swim?' Before I could use the excuse I'd prepared so I wouldn't get caught in my lie about knowing how to swim, he said with a kind smile, 'I'll teach you how I swim.'
After a quick debate with myself, I smiled back and agreed to go.
'But I don't have shorts or nothing.'
'Don't worry about that. You don't need them where we're going.'
'So, what do I wear?'
'It's the YMCA, nothing!'
'Nothing, like naked?
'Like naked.'
Visions of me swimming with fat, naked, old women passed through my mind. 'Women too?'
'YMCA means young men. Just males. No females. No dicky, no swimy.'
It took quite a while for me to get his little joke.
We went to the Sloan House YMCA where customers had taken me a couple of times. He was right, nothing but males. One obvious gay commented on my lovely eyes' and called us two muscle boys, yum' but appeared more interested in Bill than me.
I didn't see any boys until we were alongside the pool where I counted seven from about six to fifteen years old. A twelve year old with round shiny buns caught my eye as he climbed out of the pool. Bill suggested we go to the shallow end. I wanted to look at the boys. He pulled me by the hand.
Once in the water, I became a little concerned. The water where we were was shallow enough but I feared it deepened just a short distance away. I held onto the wall. Bill took me in his arms and gently pulled me away, holding me face up, flat on the surface.
'Just relax and float for a moment. I'll keep my hands under you.'
It took a few times because I kept doubling up and sinking to his hands which were always there, one under my ass, naturally, before I found enough confidence to loosen up. Then he showed me how to kick and I found that I was propelling myself, until I raised my arms and sank again to his waiting arms. The next step was getting me to float face down, holding my breath. I saw some kids with another guy watching so I had to force myself to forget my fear of drowning which was not as great as my fear of appearing chicken in front of other kids. One had a wonderfully long cock I wanted a longer look at but Bill kept goading and pulling me so I didn't see much. In twenty minutes, I was sort of swimming. When Bill pulled his hands away, I could swim frantically from him about six or eight feet to the ladder. It was exciting. I was sure I was the only kid in my school that knew how to swim, at least among the Latinos.
Past the excitement of my first swim, I took more time to check out the boys who had been watching me. I wondered what they thought a part nigger kid like me was doing with this white man damn near as old as my grandfather. Was the man with them their father? On closer examination, he was far too young, probably in his very early twenties. There was no obvious familial resemblance. Both of the boys were a year or two older than me. One was pure blonde, very pretty with skin like milk, almost as pretty as Georgie. He was the one with the beautiful long dick that had caught my eye earlier. The other was slim and muscular with light brown hair and a smooth flat stomach that reflected light when he got dripping wet out of the pool. They didn't look alike and were the same age. The blond walked past us. His dick looked an older version of Cholito's. It swung back and forth like a drunken snake. His friend, following behind, was pubescent with a fatter dong and bigger balls but no apparent pubic hair.
Maybe one was the young man's brother and the other was his friend. That would really be neat, I thought, to have an older brother who took you swimming and a friend who could go with you.
After an hour and a half in the water, Bill and I went to the showers. Minutes later while Bill was washing my back, the young man with the boys came in. The blond haired boy was beautiful with his skinny, long hairless cock and little balls that hung down at least a couple of inches like marbles in a cloth bag. The circumcised cockhead seemed to nestle between them. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Then I noticed that the young man with them was studiously checking me out. He and Bill greeted each other by name. The young man asked him about me.
'Michael, this is my friend Ray. He's a very nice boy,' he put his arms around me affectionately, 'who is going to be quite a swimmer one day if he practices.' I liked that and looked to see how the other boys were taking it.
They both nodded pleasantly at me.
'This is Roy and Adrian,' said the young man indicating the blonde first. I had a hard time not staring at Roy's long, gorgeous dick. They stepped to me individually and shook my hand. Bill still had his arms over my soapy chest. Then he nudged me toward the others. 'You get to know the boys while I talk to Michael for a moment.'
I checked out his eyes to see if there was a hidden message in what he had just said. He turned away before I could tell. When I looked back, the two boys were patiently waiting for me to talk with them.
'How long you known Bill?' asked Adrian with a voice that announced his entry into puberty. He had his hands together in front of his crotch, accenting his nice pectorals now punctuated with goose bumps.
'About three weeks. How long you known him?'
They both smiled. 'A long time, couple years at least. You meet him on 42nd?'
I nodded affirmatively. 'Where'd you meet him?'
'In Queens, at the Astoria pool.'
'How long you been with this guy?' I asked.
'Oh, just a few weeks. Bill introduced us', answered Roy. His voice was as smooth and young as his creamy body.
The math was interesting. Did Bill drop these good looking boys for me? 'You go with other johns too?'
They glanced puzzled at each other then Roy spoke, 'you mean like Bill and Michael? We did before, but not now.'
'How much they pay?'
Adrian looked first at Roy then said, 'they pay okay. How much does Bill pay you?'
'Five.' I wasn't sure I should have said that much. In my experience, you only got over three if you did something to the john and I didn't want these two thinking I was a fag in case they didn't also perform extra services.
They seemed impressed. 'They give us gifts too like a couple weeks ago we both got watches and wallets, explained Roy. Bill gave us bicycles last Christmas and some clothes.'
My eyes kept dropping to that delectable dong between Roy's legs. The bare, pinkish cockhead invited touch, looked very suckable. I'd really have loved to see it hard, to see how long it got and how it stuck out, straight in front or up or curved like the fourteen year old I had to suck off after the poker game. I wondered if they played games like that. My dick was swelling.
Two other men came into the shower so we washed ourselves. I offered to wash Roy's back. It just came out of my mouth, unplanned. He turned his back to me so I washed. His skin with soap was as slippery as one of mother's dinner plates. My dick stuck out like a one-way sign. I kept washing, excited by the feel of his flesh while trying to wish my pecker soft, an impossible desire. Adrian saw it and grinned, nodding to Roy to take a look. That brought a beautiful smile that just made my dick feel like it was going to burst.
'You better get upstairs quick so Bill can take care of that,' whispered Roy.
I looked over my shoulder to find our two men. They were still talking and bathing at the same time. The two who had just entered were under showers on the opposite side of the room and seemed to be ignoring us.
Adrian went to Bill and Michael. He glanced grinning over at us as he spoke. Bill nodded assent to whatever he said, rinsed off and left briefly, returning with an armful of towels. He brought one to me though handing it over slow enough to get a look at my hard on.
As we dressed between the lockers, Bill asked me, 'Do you want us to go with them to a restaurant or go upstairs to my room first?'
I preferred to go upstairs with Roy, but getting off in whatever manner was my most pressing need. Still, I had to ask. 'Are they going upstairs too?'
Bill seemed to consider his answer before giving it. 'Would you like for all of us to go up together?'
That was an exciting thought but there was Hell's Kitchen tough kid decorum to be considered. 'Whatever you want is okay.'
'Let me see what Michael's plans are.'
He went around to the other lockers for a moment. I couldn't hear for the echoing noise from the pool. He was back quickly.
'We'll go up first and they'll join us in a few minutes. That okay with you?'
I tried to look nonchalant. 'Yeh.' Inside I was getting that tingling feeling in my chest. My hard on came back full strength. I hurried tying my shoes.
We walked up to the lobby and to the elevators in back. The young man behind the desk rolled his eyes and shook his head. The elevator took us to the seventh floor to a nice room with two beds, a desk and chair. I sat on the bed. It was softer than the ones at the Holland but not as nice as those of the Holiday Inn.
Bill sat beside me and pulled me onto his lap. 'You're sure it's okay for the other boys and Michael to be here too?'
I wondered if he actually didn't want them around when he was having sex with me. I really wanted to have sex with Roy or at least see him doing it with Michael. 'Whatever you wanna do, it's okay.' I wondered if I'd said that right. There was a light tapping on the door. Bill slid me off his lap and let the three of them in. The boys were smiling and came straight to me. They both sat to my left. Michael got on his knees between them and began unbuttoning their shirts simultaneously. Bill nudged his way between Adrian and me and pulled me close. 'Want me to undress you?' he whispered in my ear, `I'm an expert.'
'Unnh huh,' I grinned.
While he unbuttoned my shirt, I stretched down one arm at a time and untied my shoes, pushing one off with the other. Roy and Adrian lay back on the bed while Michael took off their shoes and clean white socks. I was glad I'd washed mine. Adrian's pants and underwear came down first. His cock was already hard. It was fatter than Roy's though not quite as long and had downy hair growing on the sides like a small, split mustache. He glanced furtively at my crotch, which was still covered as Bill undid the snap on my jeans. I had my eyes on Roy's midsection from the moment Michael pulled off his undershirt. I so wanted to put my mouth on that smooth white skin. Bill stood me up so he could pull my pants down. Roy lifted his hips for Michael. His dick sprang out as the underpants came off, sticking straight out at least four inches. I couldn't stop myself from reaching for it. The feel was incredible. I regained control.
'You got a big one, Roy,' I said clumsily, knowing full well I'd already blown my cover.
Then Roy fingered mine sending chills the length of my body. 'Yours is going to be bigger than both ours. It's already as fat as mine.' I was worried that if he held it much longer, I'd get off.
Bill and Michael stripped to their underwear, Bill still apparently soft in boxers, Michael definitely hard in briefs.
My mind was spinning. What would they think if I started sucking on Roy? Did they suck each other? Did they want to fuck? How come the men were still in their underwear? Were they waiting for us to do something? I held on to Roy's dick, kneading it between my fingers. I hoped he'd do something to get things started. He was already beating me off a little. I lay back to see what he'd do, wanting him to lay beside me. Would he kiss me? He stayed up and masturbated me harder. It was nice but not what I wanted. I looked at Bill, hoping he'd understand and fix it so I could suck that long cock into my mouth. Bill didn't understand. He knelt in front of me, gently removed Roy's hand and began blowing me.
Adrian crawled behind Roy and whispered in my ear, 'Let me fuck you while he sucks.' I was far out of touch with my usual persona. I was confused. I didn't want to let go of Roy's cock. When Georgie fucked me for the movie, it felt good but I didn't know this boy. How would I keep hold of Roy's cock and let him fuck me? I sat up to be closer to Roy, to see his face and try to figure out if there was any way I could have him. Adrian took my move as an indication that I was going to let him in. He moved close behind me and slipped his finger underneath my buns, probing for my hole. I didn't stop him but used it as an excuse to lean toward Roy, to put my face on his shoulder. Adrian pushed me slowly over. Bill moved to his right to stay on my dick. He either didn't notice what was happening or didn't mind. I slid farther across Roy's body, my hand still working his cock, my face slipping down his chest. I couldn't stop my mouth from opening, my lips from tasting Roy's hard nipple as it went by.
Finally, Roy lay back with my left arm under him. My lips and tongue lathered his silky smooth stomach. There was no stopping me from reaching my goal. I slowly stretched out along the side of the bed. Bill moved with me, inadvertently helping me adjust my position so he could suck me from the floor but my face was at Roy's pelvis.
Adrian moved in tight against my back and used his fingers to locate my hole and guide his cock to the pucker. It felt very slippery and warm as though someone had covered it with hot saliva. I held Roy's peter with the palm of my hand and let my mouth rest at its base. I could smell the soap from the shower mixed with tender boy flesh. Adrian pushed inside of me and hit the spot that made me stiffen. I lifted my head, gazed at Roy's cockhead, and then dropped down on it, savoring the feel of the spongy head then his shaft sliding between my lips and over my tongue until it rested at the back of my mouth. The sense of having hard boy penises puncturing me from both ends of my body made me cringe with pleasure, hug Roy tightly to me.
Bill pulled my ass cheeks apart allowing Adrian greater penetration. He pulled out and slid back in, again touching that wonderful, tender spot up inside of me. I wished he was longer. Adrian's fucking reminded me of the plastic handle I'd taken off a carpet sweeper I'd found in the trash one day so long ago. But this was much better. The feel of Adrian's body tight against mine made it so much better. Georgie fucking me had been great due to my feelings for him but his dick wasn't long or big enough to provide the physical sensations Adrian's did especially with Roy's wonderful long cock nestled in my mouth. I went quickly past the point of no return and throbbed inside Bill's mouth, a throbbing that went on and on as Adrian fucked me again and again. Roy had his hands on my head urging me to go faster but always all the way down to his pelvis. I gripped his body with my arms and clamped down with my lips, trying to wrap my tongue around his shaft. Bill kept me in his mouth. Adrian's thrusting punched my crotch repeatedly against Bill's lips. The throbbing in my groin had stopped but the good feeling stayed. I was going to be able to come again, soon. Bill let my cock slip out of his mouth and sucked on my balls. Roy was arching his back and moving his hips to meet my mouth each time it descended. He held my head tightly, pulling it hard against him each time I hit bottom. Adrian bit into my shoulder. It interrupted my rhythm. I felt him slamming into me harder, each time hitting that spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure up through my cock and spine to where he was biting me.
Another arm wrapped around me. I hardly noticed but Michael was behind Adrian with his saliva slicked dick between the boy's thighs, his eyes on my mouth running up and down Roy's slim, steel hard dick. The muscles on Roy's body hardened. Adrian rammed into me and bit harder. I felt the pumping of his orgasm. Michael's intracrural screwing kept Adrian's dick banging against my spot. I tightened my mouth even more on Roy's cock. He shuddered and worked his hips harder, forcing me to pick up the pace. Bill sucked my cock back into his mouth, keeping my balls in there too.
Roy let go of my head and placed one hand on the bed and the other on my shoulder to help his hips go higher and harder. He sped up, bouncing my head all over. Then, with no warning, he reached his summit. His cock didn't bloat, it just pulsed sharply, almost as hard as Cholito's. I tasted something sweet on the back of my tongue. He made a series of short thrusts, his entire body shuddering. Then, just as suddenly, he went limp everywhere but his cock. He was breathing like a runner at the end of a marathon. Bill sucked harder, his tongue rolling over my half exposed glans. He grabbed Adrian's butt and pulled him hard into me. His mouth on my cock and Adrian's peter against my prostate took me home. I came again, this time from deeper inside myself. My entire middle seemed involved. I had to open my mouth and take in a couple of breaths.
After a few moments, I realized that everyone was still. Adrian was still inside me but Michael had apparently reached his climax. Something warm and wet was dripping over my thigh. Michel held the three of us firmly together. Bill sucked gently on my balls. Adrian breathed through his lips, which were still on my shoulder where he'd bitten me. I hugged Roy.
Gradually, Michael's hands fell away. Adrian slipped out and fell back on the bed. I felt the cold where the air hit the sweat that had developed between us. Roy sat up.
Adrian said, 'I'm gonna take a shower.' There was sperm dripping down the inside of his thighs. I looked at my own and saw more of the same. Michael had pumped out quite a load.
We had to take turns, two at a time. I made sure I showered with Roy and washed his back, and as much else as I could. When I hugged him, he hugged me back.
There was no discussion or comments from anyone about what had just happened. I was very curious if this was a regular thing with them, if we would be able to do it again. But talk centered on hunger and where to eat.
While we dressed, I began to contemplate what had just happened. The sex was not business this time. It was more like the night Georgie and I had slept together in the New Jersey john's van but without the strong emotional tie I felt toward my hustling partner. This had been sex for the pure joy of it. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy a lot of the sex I had with some of the men and definitely with Georgie. Getting sucked off by someone who is good at it is great. But it was done primarily for the money. It was business.
I looked at Roy who was sitting on the side of the bed, still naked, putting on his undershirt. The light from the thinly curtained window illuminated his creamy flesh. His tummy stretched as he reached up, accenting the muscles of his abdomen, drawing my eyes down to his crotch and that wonderful long penis that flowed gently down from where the abdominal muscles narrowed nearly to a point. I found it beautiful and wanted to caress it, feel the smooth flesh. His midsection softened gently as his arms came back down. I felt a loss as the T-shirt covered him to his thighs. His eyes caught mine staring at him. I realized I had stopped dressing. Roy had seen my interest in his body. He winked and smiled. What did he think of me? I'd blown him, let his friend fuck me and was now engrossed with his nude body.
In the car my mind dragged up the hidden question: why did I so like sucking on Roy's penis, feeling it, even just looking at it. I even liked Adrian's cock and would have happily sucked him too. I enjoyed having his dick up my rear, feeling it pumping into me. I thrilled at his and Roy's orgasms. Why? Georgie went with men but he never sucked them nor allowed them to do more than stick their dicks between his legs. When he blew me for the movie, that was purely business. The moment it wasn't necessary for him to have my cock in his mouth, out it came. I'd stayed on him each time. Why did I like it and Georgie didn't? Why did I suck on Roy and let Adrian fuck me? There had to be something wrong with me. I wasn't effeminate, just the opposite. I couldn't be a fag. Maybe I just liked sex more than other people. So, why didn't I like Maria Santos like Cholito. Jesus, this was so confusing, so screwed up! What the fuck was I?
I kicked hard at the car's firewall in front of my feet. Bill was driving and looked over.
`You okay?'
I felt stupid and could only nod.
`You're awfully quiet. Thinking about something we can talk about?'
Did he know what was in my mind? Could he read my mind? That was scary. But maybe he knew why I was the way I was. He liked sucking me and he sure wasn't a fairy. Maybe I was like him. Holy shit, was I going to end up picking up boys on Forty-Second Street and paying them three dollars to suck their peters in movie theater bathroom stalls? Unless I became a thief like my biological father, I wasn't ever going to have the money to take kids to restaurants, especially not in cars like the one Bill was driving. Shit, why did I like sucking cock?
Bill drove into an underground garage, driving the disturbing thoughts out of my conscious. He and Michael walked us to a restaurant on Second Avenue, knives, forks, cloth napkins, thick ceramic plates with food I had never seen before. It was delicious. I ate it all.
Bill dropped Michael and the boys off near his apartment and took me back to Hell's Kitchen. As I was about to get out, he grabbed my hand.
`C'mere you,' he said warmly. The hug was even warmer, made me feel good all over.
That night, I again found two fives in my rear pants pocket. I was afraid to think about the possibility that this man might really like me. None had before, not really. Why should this one?
As I'd promised him, I took Cholito to the Square Sunday. I got us there before ten in hopes that John would make our meeting. I kept us in Herman's for over an hour before giving up hope he'd arrive. I was angry with myself for not giving him my address so he could find me during the week or early on weekends. Maybe he'd make it in the afternoon. I planned to have Cholito back home and be back on the Square by two or a little after.
Cholito was becoming proficient at Skee Ball and went through two dollars on that alone. He was apologetic when I said that we had to save something for food and the movie. I didn't really care. Watching this boy enjoy what my money provided was worth every penny. I really cared about him. If that was what it was like being the kind of fag I was, then it would be okay.
A man I'd never seen sidled up to us. I had no doubt he was a john and wanted to get rid of the guy. But he was persistent, finally asking, 'Aren't you a friend of Georgie?'
'Look, mister, I don't know who you're talking about so take a hike!' I'd heard Bogart or Raft use that line. It felt cool saying it.
An amused expression appeared on the man's face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
'Who was that guy?' asked Cholito. `You friends with Georgie Shannon?'
'Man, there's lots of Georgie's in the world. I don't know who he's talking about.'
As usual, Cholito accepted my shaky response but I had to find somewhere else to take my friend or he'd soon figure out why I knew the area so well.
We ate burgers on Eighth Avenue and watched a war movie with Kirk Douglas, another of my heroes. When alone and near a mirror, I'd sometimes practice gritting my teeth as he did and use a pencil to create the Douglas chin dimple.
I got back to the square at quarter to three still harboring a slight hope of finding John. During the cold hour and fifteen minutes it took to find a score, he didn't appear. I didn't get picked up until well after four. The guy was new to me but short and clean. The tip of his overcoat liner hung loose. He wasn't a cop. We went by subway to a sleazy lower Manhattan rooming house where I made four. His sucking technique was great. I got off twice, sucking his small cock in between times. He offered a hot shower, which I declined then accepted knowing there was no more time for a second trick and I was already naked. The shower was down the hall. He washed me. Another man passed us on the way back to the room and, grinning, waved a finger at my john. As I was leaving, he apologized for the small amount, pleading poverty, which was believable. He did give me a pair of subway tokens as a tip.
I went straight back to the house.
Lester Shannon was waiting on the stoop. My first thought was that he was genuinely horny and desperate for a blowjob. There was no way he was going to get one from me. But his reason for being there had nothing to do with sex.
`Ray Hoolihan says he wants to you to go see him at Noonan's right now.' Noonan's was a bar on Tenth Avenue.
My immediate reaction was that he was going to help me with the juvenile court hearing. It was the farthest thing from his mind.
'We got this thing we gotta do tomorrow night and we need your help. It's quick, easy and you'll make fifty bucks.'
I knew he was a thief and he'd never given me fifty bucks except at Christmas. I was going to be a look out or something. My money was running down so I agreed. And, after this, he'd have to help me with my problem.
He told my mother, 'My wife and I wanna take him out to dinner with the family. It's gonna be in New Jersey so we couldn't get back here 'til late. He can sleep with us and I'll take him straight to school Tuesday morning.'
'How come now you wanna do stuff with Ray? You didn't do nothing before. How come now?'
'Hey, I'm trying to be right here.'
She was very suspicious but allowed it.
'Don't you do nothing with him you're not supposed to do like drinking, okay?' she told me as I left for school carrying a set of my best clothes.
After school, Cholito and I went to the basement and beat off. I was starting to worry about whatever we were going to do that night. If I got caught involved in thieving, I was going away for sure. A chilling thought struck me. Was I going to be doing what Kenny did, and got caught three times doing it, finally being sent to a reformatory? The possibility turned my dick into mush.
Cholito noticed. He seemed too to sense my somber thoughts.
'You thinking about juvy court?'
'Nah,' I lied.
'I know kids that went there and they always came home same day. They ain't gonna do shit.'
That may have been so but I was scheduled to go to court. What would happen if I got caught doing a serious crime and they found out I was already in trouble?
I struggled to figure a way out of what I was to do that very night but came up with nothing viable. Turning down a chance to work with the Westies just wasn't something a boy like me could allow himself to do. This might be the work of my future. I'd certainly considered it often enough. I couldn't throw away a career opportunity when it might be the only one available to me. Anyway, I convinced myself, I was smarter than Kenny and would be careful, watch for dangers and avoid them.
I met my biological father at his friend's house on Forty Sixth where we hung around watching television until nine. A car picked us up and took us almost an hour away where a large van like a laundry truck met us. Hoolihan, two others and I transferred to the truck. We entered a large, dark industrial area with rows of broad buildings with great sliding doors and loading docks. Train tracks ran along the front of the one where we stopped. The car had stayed behind a couple of blocks away. Ray carried a military walkie- talkie to stay in touch with it.
On the way, he had explained that I was to climb a drainpipe to the roof, break the glass of a window in the middle and climb inside and across the wood roof support structure. There were shelves I could drop down on and get from there to the floor. The rollup door had latches on both sides at the bottom. Pull them inward and Hoolihan and his fellow thieves would open the door from the outside. That was it. My part was over unless I wanted to help load.
It was just as he had said. I carried a tire iron in my belt for the window. The drainpipe was dirty cast iron, just rough enough for me to climb. The roof was well lit by the moon. I didn't have to break a window because several were partially opened. Inside was a different matter. It was very dark. The only light was the moonlight in the middle under the windows. It took a while to feel my way across the dusty wooden beams, picking up a splinter in my palm on the way. At the side wall, my eyes had adapted sufficiently to the dark that I could see the outline of large shelves under me. It was an eight-foot drop. I didn't have any choice. I'd have looked like raw chicken if I hadn't done it. I hung, then let go barely seeing what I was going to land on, making a loud metallic thump when I did. The rest was easier.
When Ray opened the door he said to his friends, 'Din't I tell youse what a tough little kid I got here. A chip off the old block.'
I felt like Bogart, one of the gang, a Westie. I helped load. The boxes weren't very heavy. 'Pharmaceuticals', explained Hoolihan.
The truck left us shortly after we drove away. I was taken back to Forty-Sixth Street and told to take a shower. When I came out wrapped in a towel, my biological father had left, preventing a discussion of my juvenile court case.
My clothes were put in a washing machine. I put on the underwear from the dress up clothing I'd brought along and went to bed. I arrived at school on time, not quite strutting but doing the quiet criminal bigwig act. My smalltime schoolmates didn't know who was in their midst. I carried the fifty in my pocket and debated whether to let it accidentally be seen. Common sense got the better of me and it stayed in my back pocket.
By early afternoon, I was nodding like a junkie, the missed sleep catching up. Mr. Martinson commented but I claimed that noise from the apartment across the hall had kept me awake, pure bullshit as many a night I'd slept through loud parties right outside our apartment door..
The after school session with Mr. Martinson woke me up. I was catching on to the material and had gotten to a point that I was explaining things to Cholito. Afterwards, Cholito and I went to the basement and had a different, far more enjoyable kind of session.
Wednesday morning, Cholito gave me some interesting news.
`That kid, Oscar Ostra-something, got kicked out of 111 last year. That's why he's in our school.' One eleven was the public school on 53rd Street, almost directly across the street from the sixth grader's house.
`What'd he do?'
`Nobody knows, just he got kicked out.'
I had wondered why a kid from way up there was in our school. Oscar Ostrowski was no angel. Maybe this would help me in court.
I tried unsuccessfully to find my biological father that afternoon and early evening. After Monday night, he had to help me get out of going to court. I was a Westie, or almost a Westie.
By Thursday, my strut was gone and I was again very concerned about the following week's court hearing though mildly hopeful that Ostrowski's past problems could prove that he started the fight, that I was just defending myself. The greatest problem was explaining why I had chased him all those blocks to his house. I decided to discuss it with my teacher whom I had come to consider a friend who could be counted on for advice. I asked Cholito to wait outside at the end of our class. I told Mr. Martinson I didn't want to get put away over a fight especially with a kid that had been expelled from another school probably for fighting.
Martinson put his arm around me and held me to him. `In the first place, they don't lock up boys for first offenses, especially a school fight.'
Yeh, but my mother's gonna tell em to put me in a reform school.'
Martinson frowned. `Do you mind if I come by your house to see the papers they gave your mother?'
I agreed without hesitation and told him where I lived and that my mother was home by eight.
Mother was not happy when she opened the door and saw my teacher. `What he do now?' she asked exasperated.
`Good grief, Mrs. Estrada, he's actually been doing quite well lately.'
`So,' she hesitated and invited him in making a series of excuses why the apartment wasn't as clean and organized as usual.
Mrs. Estrada,' he began, leaving me to speculate if he realized she wasn't married, I came here to look into the juvenile court hearing next Wednesday. I'd like to see the papers the police gave you.'
`Sure, Mr., uh.'
`Martinson.'
`Yeh, Mr. Martinson.' She got them from off the top of a clothes cabinet in her bedroom. He read them all carefully. I awaited good news.
`Mrs. Estrada, could we talk outside for a few moments?'
That was not what I wanted to hear. They went into the hall and closed the door. All of us including Brenda put our ears to the door but heard nothing.
Delia asked, `He gonna help you?'
`Yeh,' I said confidently.
They were out long enough for the girls to be back doing what they had been when he knocked. I sat, hands clasped in front of me, on a chair near the door.
`I'm going to write a letter to the court telling them about your progress in my class and in school. But, Ray, I don't think you need have any concern about being put away. No one wants that.' He glanced at my mother, gave me a pat on the shoulder and was on his way.
Mother looked uncomfortable. She pushed me gently into my bedroom and closed the door behind us.
She was close to crying. She reached out and pulled me tight too her. It had been a lot of years since she'd done that.
`I don't want you to be put away. I just get angry because of all the things you do sometimes. You are my son and I love you.'
Now, I was about to cry. Forget hugs, I didn't remember my mother ever saying that to me. She'd get close like `querido', which means dear or beloved, but she never came out and said she loved me. There were tears in my eyes but I got rid of them with my sleeve. I was too old for that shit!
Friday morning, Georgie passed me in the corridor and stuck an envelope into my hand without stopping. It was from Bill. He was out of town and couldn't make it that weekend. I had planned on seeing if he could help with my case too. He was rich, I thought, and probably had connections. And, I liked him. He was the only john who really seemed to listen to what I said, to show me respect. And, I believed he sincerely liked me. And, maybe he liked Georgie, too. Was Georgie going with Bill too? Georgie talked about a Saturday steady for a while then I had met Bill. He had asked me if I was Georgie's friend. That hadn't seemed strange me because Georgie, one very pretty boy, had been on the Square for a long time and most of the Johns knew him. The question was how did Bill get a letter into Georgie's hands during the week.
Sitting in class, watching Mr. Martinson teach, it occurred to me the Mr. Martinson might be just like Bill, not just a friend, but a man liked sex with boys. He was always hugging me, cupping my face in his big hand. I'd never seen him on the Square but maybe he went someplace else. There had to be other places, not just the Square. Like that swimming pool Roy and Adrian talked about in Queens. Did Mr. Martinson go looking for boys at the Astoria pool?
So what was I going to do the last weekend before my court case? With the fifty from the burglary, I again had over two hundred dollars in my stashes. That would cover any emergency in case things went bad the following Wednesday. I didn't need to hustle.
Cholito joined me at recess. Instead of getting involved in tag with his friends, I walked him to the playground wall.
`You wanna go on a trip tomorrow?'
He was enthusiastic. I'd never been on the Staten Island Ferry but knew the 7th Avenue IRT train went to where it was.
We left early, around eight. Cholito held his ears when the train's wheels squealed loudly making the sharp turn into the South Ferry station. We both enjoyed the salty cold wind on the ferry deck and the view of the Statue of Liberty, boats and barges and distant shorelines. On the Staten Island side, we ate a `buuergerr', as the foreigner making them pronounced it. We walked a few blocks up the hill from the landing, decided there was nothing more to see and took the next boat back to Manhattan. We rode the train all the way to Queens, watching the buildings fly by once we got above ground. Trying to avoid Times Square, I got us lost and finally ended up back downtown at the Cambers Street station. The subway map in our car was still a mystery to me so we got off and asked directions from a man with a briefcase. He showed me the train to Grand Central. Cholito and I had pizza there before taking the shuttle back to Times Square, walking the tunnel to the Port Authority Bus Terminal and taking a train to Fiftieth Street, just a couple of blocks from Cholito's apartment.
I went with Cholito to his block hoping to pick up more information on the reason my sixth grade nemesis was expelled from school 111. No one knew a thing.
I asked Cholito's mother if he could spend the night at my house but she folded her arms and refused.
Another search for Ray Hoolihan just cost me sneaker sole. A couple of times, men in bars said he'd just been there but I never caught up with him. It was only three more days to court.
Sunday morning, Cholito was on my stoop when I came out. It was almost warm. He had on a sweater with holes in the sleeves. I really wanted his company. The court case should have been a matter of no concern at that point with Mr. Martinson's letter, my mother promising to ask the judge to let me go home and the fact that my accuser had been expelled and I hadn't. But after a life of negative contacts with authority, I was concerned.
I took Cholito to a spy movie, Our Man Flint, on the Square. I walked us in fast from Eighth Avenue, checking the movie posters for something we'd enjoy. We managed to get inside without being accosted by anyone.
Before three, we were back in the neighborhood, our stomachs filled with subs from a Ninth Avenue shop. All day, I felt an increasing yearning to be close to my friend, physically close. I suggested the basement. As usual, he said, `Let's go.'
Inside, cardboard on the floor, warmed by the boiler and naked as we were born, I sat along side Cholito. There was something I had to do before Wednesday, just in case, or at least, that's what I told myself. In reality, I felt a growing affinity for my younger friend. Although love wasn't the word that would have occurred to me, that's what it was.
`Cholito, I began hesitantly. I wanna show you something we ain't done before but only friends can do with each other and you gotta promise never to say nothing to nobody.'
He did a cross his heart with his hand and seemed curious.
I took his cock in my hand as we'd done before when we beat each other off. He reached for mine. `No, it ain't that. What really feels great is when someone puts their mouth on your dick like this.'
I lowered my heard and sucked him up and down three times. He looked confused.
`But that's what fags do.'
I reacted instinctively to an attack on my machismo. `I ain't no fag!' It's just.'
`No, Gato, I din't say you was no fag..'
`.what friends sometimes do but it ain't got nothing to do with being no fag.
No, Gato, I din't mean.' The light from the uncovered rear window caught the glint of tears in the bottom of his eyes. I'll do it. You're my best friend.'
Two shots from opposite ends of the same gun. He'd said something that hit me in the gut then embraced me with words I'd never heard from another boy. I sat there mesmerized by his words. I did like sucking other boys' cocks. I wasn't interested in girls. What if I was a fag?
Cholito broke in and pulled my arm. `Let's do it, Gato.'
I fell into his lap before he could move and took his dick into my mouth. He struggled to turn himself around to where he could lie at my side and take mine in too. I shuddered. This was the real thing, not Georgie doing it for money. Cholito did it because he wanted to do it with me, because I was his best friend. I pushed my arm under him so I could pull his body tight to mine, could hold him. He tried to copy on my penis what I was doing to his but obviously wasn't sure what to do. I took hold of his ass cheeks. They filled my hands like smooth ripe melons. I urged him to fuck my mouth and gently fucked his. He caught on and held his head steady. I came seconds later. When it started to tickle, I pushed his head down against my crotch then nudged his ass to keep fucking. He got into it, his top hand dropping to my middle back for leverage. His ass muscles tightened with each thrust. I ran my hand between us over his chest to his pelvis. He pressed his hand harder into my back. His cock bloated and became stiff as a board. He seemed to bounce back and forth for a few seconds, staying bloated and hard but not reaching orgasm. Then it came, starting from the bottom of his cock and pulsing to the head. His legs stretched straight, muscles taut ass to ankles. I had reached a new plateau of happiness, past where Roy and Adrian had taken me. This time the sex, the lovemaking, had been with a boy who was my best friend, a boy I really cared about and who cared equally about me. I struggled with the next admission, an admission that made me an entirely different person. I was with a boy I loved!
After a few minutes, without saying a word, we both began slowly moving in and out again. It took longer this time, gentler, more loving. I was a fag, a homosexual. Was that possible? I didn't walk or talk funny like the gays in the neighborhood. I wasn't afraid like them. I was tough, a burglar, a fighter. Kids were afraid of me. I sucked Cholito's balls in my mouth. He took in mine. I licked around his perineum and along side his dick. He followed suit. I sucked his cock and balls together into my mouth. He tried but couldn't. I hugged his head to indicate he was doing fine. Fucking each others' mouths, I came again but not quite as wildly as the first time. Cholito apologized that he couldn't.
I pulled him up so he was sitting between my legs and hugged him. He held my arms. `Cool, huh?' I asked.
`Yeh.'
I felt I was ready at that time for anything. But that homosexual business would require more thought. How was it possible?
We left the area arms over each other's shoulders. I had a true friend.