This story was originally posted in January 2000 in the Beginnings section on Nifty. There have been some minor sentence structure changes, but the content of the story essentially remains the same. Additionally, new chapters will be posted in an effort to complete the story after all previous chapters have been posted.
This story contains descriptions of sexual encounters between minors that are homosexual in nature. If offended by such things or if you are not of legal age, then read no further. The characters and events depicted in this story are completely fictional and any resemblance to any real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the expressed written consent of the author. Comments or questions regarding this story may be addressed to Scotty Yates and sent via email to yatessg@yahoo.com. (c) 2000 by the author
This story is a work of fiction, although I must admit, my stories are based on experiences of my friends or drawn from similar personal experience in my own background. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
POOR WHITE TRASH
By Scotty Yates Chapter 2
Are you still interested? I can quit now if you like? OK! Ok! Since your begging for more, I'll go on to the rest of my story!
When I was 5, I had my first meeting with any members of the Deveraux family. It occurred one Saturday morning on the front porch of our house. Usually Mr. Deveraux would come over to the house and talk to my father about how things were going with the farm and the family. He has always been very concerned about his tenants.
I found out later the Deveraux's always sent gifts at the birth of each tenant's kid and would send flowers to the funerals. Considering the proclivity for procreation by the Cantrell's, I am surprised we didn't put them in the poor house, along with us, just in buying baby gifts. In many cases the elder Deveraux's would attend the funerals of any their tenants, which died. They attended my mother's funeral, but I didn't know it until later.
Anyway, one Saturday morning just after I turned 5, Mr. Deveraux drove up in his fancy car. On this morning all of the kids, who were still at home, were sitting on the front porch with pa. We had been talking about going to town and then on a picnic. I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, since this was going to be my first trip to town and a picnic all in one day.
By the way if you have never seen a chicken when it's slaughtered, you are in for a treat. When you chop off or wring it's neck, the chicken will flop around all over the place. You better watch out for as sure as the sun rises in the east it will head directly for you. As soon as it gets you all bloody, that is assuming you don't run like I did after the first time, then it heads for whoever else is standing around. It's almost like it has eyes in its body. It seems like it will flop all over the yard for at least 15 minutes after the head is off before it finally quits. It's really funny to watch and see everybody scrambling to get out of the way. Cows and pigs didn't act that way since we always tied them up and then used a gun to kill them. Definitely not as much fun as a chicken.
When the car drove up we all stood up and formed around pa like we were going to take a group picture. Me being the smallest, I obviously moved to the front and clasped my hands around pa's leg. Mr. Deveraux got out of the car and then came around to the passenger side and opened the door.
Out of the car scooted the most beautiful little boy I had ever seen or will see. I found out several years later he was exactly 11 months older than I having been born the previous July 15th. He had jet-black hair, creamy light brown skin, and the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. He was dressed in a dark blue pair of shorts and jacket with a white shirt and tie and some black loafers. I still can picture him to this day.
I was awe struck! All I could do was stare! And I did stare! I never said a word but just looked at him. Have you ever seen the painting of the 'Blue Boy'? It looked just like him except the clothes were more modern and he was a thousand times prettier than the boy in the painting. He grasped the hand of Mr. Deveraux, and they walked up the dirt path till they were standing about 5 to 6 feet away. Mr. Deveraux then introduced us to his son, Brandon Charles Deveraux. Pa, not to be out done and proud of his own flock, then proceeded to introduce all of us beginning with the oldest and ending with me. As he introduced me, he picked me up with one hand around my back and one hand under my bottom.
Thankfully I was wearing a very large t-shirt, which went down almost to my ankles, as I had nothing on underneath. Otherwise Brandon might have gotten a sight of something he shouldn't have. I have no idea what they said after that as I continued to stare at this beautiful boy. I couldn't break the eye contact. Well for that matter, neither could he! He stood there looking at me with strangest look in his eyes. It looked like they were on fire. I could almost feel heat coming from them. He had no reason to hate me, but I sensed a very strong emotion coming from him, which I assumed to be hatred.
They were there for only a few minutes, before Mr. Deveraux, who was still holding his son's hand, turned around and walked with his son back to the car. As they walked away Brandon kept turning and looking back over his shoulder at me. I had this weird feeling running up and down my spine as he looked at me with that fire in his eyes. I clung to pa as hard as I could. I had never seen him before so why would he look at me like that. All I knew was that he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. As they turned around and were driving away, Brandon continued looking out the window at us.
After they were out of site, pa tried to put me down, but I continued to cling to him. For some reason I felt the need to hold on to something I felt secure with. It was over an hour before pa could get me to let go of him. My brothers and sisters during this time were all talking about the cute little rich kid. I was getting very frustrated with the nasty and crude comments they were saying, but didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. I couldn't get the picture of his beautiful face and his long slender body out of my mind. God was he ever awesome! Right then and there, I vowed someday I was going to have a little boy and dress him up in fancy clothes just like Brandon.
Somewhere during this time I heard my sisters saying how nice it would be to dress me up like him and compare the two of us. They all seemed to think that if I had been dressed like him, that I would have been his equal or better. I sure didn't think so! I could never look like that. In my mind I was comparing how I looked in my pa's old t-shirt. It was like comparing an old worn out rag to a to a tuxedo. NO WAY WAS I ANYWHERE CLOSE TO LOOKING LIKE HIM!!!! Besides I had blond hair and green eyes and he had that coal black hair. WOW!!
I finally settled down and we went into town and then to the county park. I remember enjoying the day with all the fun we had, but I never forgot that morning and the first time I had seen Brandon.
After that first Saturday morning of seeing Brandon, it became a regular routine for him to come with his father whenever his father visited my pa. It was like five years before I found out Brandon never went with his father to visit any of the other tenants except for those on our road. The way I found out was talking to Gary Johnson, (remember him as the guy I decked later on when we were both 14). I asked him one day if he had ever seen Brandon Deveraux? He told me, "Yeah, maybe once or twice. Maybe 5 or 6 years ago when he had come to his house with his father, and once or twice in town. According to Gary he had never been out to their farm since."
After talking to Gary, I asked Jason, my nephew, what he thought about Brandon. Jason couldn't even remember seeing him, except sitting in the car. According to him he never got out of the car at their place which was two farms up closer to the main road from ours. Was ours the only place Brandon got out of the car? Not having any other sources I could ask, I forgot all about it.
I had no idea why our road was special. I assumed he just got bored after making the rounds of the 6 farms on our road. He would always stand close to where I was standing and kept watching me with that fiery look in his eyes. What was it about us that caused him to have the weird look? I didn't think we had ever done anything to hurt his family. God we looked up to them as if they walked on water.
Hey! We knew which side our bread was buttered on. If it hadn't been for the Deveraux's I couldn't imagine where we would be. We loved our home, and were happy to stay there for the rest of our lives. Whenever Brandon came, I would stand on the porch and just watch him. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. This was be my downfall when I was in high school.
As each year passed he just kept looking better and better. Man he was going to be some killer dude when he was grown! As I grew older and learned more about the birds and the bees, I figured this kid was going to have the girls buzzing after him like flies on manure. He definitely was my ideal of a good-looking guy!
Every time he came the only words he spoke were, 'Hi' when they arrived and 'Bye' when they turned to walk away. I didn't really realize I was the only one of my family he ever spoke to when he was there. I just assumed he was talking to who ever was present. Later on when I was the only one there it was just his routine and nothing special.
I know your wondering what I said to him? Duh! Look in the paragraph above and you have your answer! The only problem was I think I had a tendency to stutter out my responses.
As I said earlier, Brandon was my downfall in high school. Our school was in the same league as his private school so we played football, basketball, and baseball against their teams. In basketball, whenever we played his team I made ever excuse I could not to be on the floor. I know my coach thought I was weird, but I just couldn't function playing against him. It was like I was in a trance. I would just stand there and he could walk right by me. God did he ever look awesome and sexy as hell in those cute green and yellow basketball shorts and shirt. (By the way our colors were baby blue and gray since we known as the Rebels.)
Needless to say I got to be an expert in avoiding playing when he was on the court. As a matter of fact I always seemed to develop some unknown virus and was unable to suit up whenever we were playing his team. I knew better than to make a fool of myself. As far as I know my coach and teammates never did figure out my problem. As long as he wasn't on the floor, I could do just fine. Not super hero, just maybe a little better than average!
In baseball, I could play just fine as long as Brandon wasn't pitching. If he was pitching I could count on striking out or walking. All I could do was watch Brandon out on the mound. It seemed like he also had some difficulty, as he seemed to lose his control whenever he was pitching to me.
His team won the league championships in basketball and baseball every year that he played. He is a really awesome pitcher and basketball player.
At 6' and 170 pounds he is something to feast your eyes upon. Well built and toned, but not overly so. The girls in my school, and I assumed all the rest of the schools since our school was fairly representative of the norm, just drooled over him. When he walked out on the floor in those cute basketball shorts you could almost hear a collective gasp coming from the girls. Thankfully, theirs always covered up my gasp.
In football, I didn't have the same problem. I could watch Brandon play all I wanted, as he was the quarterback on his team. Hey! I was looking for pointers wasn't I! Besides he was never on the field when I was, so I didn't have to worry about coming in contact with him. When I was on the field with him watching, I played my best games just to show him how good I was. Occasionally I would look at him after making some play and would see him smiling. I always hoped he was smiling at my performance. Anyway we won the league championship each year.
After he graduated from high school I heard through the grapevine he was attending Florida State, which is only a couple hours drive from our town. There were many times during my senior year when I would see Brandon in the stands when my teams were playing. I assumed he was there just to have something to do. I knew he had absolutely no reason to come and watch me play. Regardless of the reason, when I knew he was watching I always played my best. For some reason I wanted to impress him with how good I could play.
There was one experience I think I should tell you about which occurred between my junior and senior years in high school. As you know from above, Brandon always came with his father when he visited my father. It was one Saturday in July between my junior and senior year. All of my sisters and brothers had long ago moved out of the house with their husbands or wives.
Normally Mr. Deveraux would visit in the morning, but he hadn't come by that morning. He didn't come by every Saturday morning, but most. It was naturally therefore assumed he wasn't coming. This hadn't bothered us, so we were going on about our business. Saturday afternoons had become the routine for pa and I to go into town and do our shopping and then relax the rest of the afternoon until chores had to be done.
It was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I had decided to go take a shower before going into town. I had been working in the barn and garden for much of the morning and was really dirty. I got out my clean clothes and went out to our outdoor shower. I told you about that earlier. On the opposite end of the shower from the water faucet is a bench where we laid our towel and clothes. I had stripped down and had just stepped into the shower and when I turned towards the front of the house and there stood Brandon. I know he couldn't see my private parts, but he could see my chest and legs and knew I was naked. All he did was smile!!!
I went beet red. I threw my hands in front of myself, even though I knew he couldn't see anything because of the partial wall. I was so embarrassed. I knew my entire body was blushing. For some reason I immediately felt my dick tense up and move to its full erect status. God I was humiliated! I know he couldn't see it, but all I could think about was he is going to see my 7 and 1/2 uncut cock in all its full glory. Yeah, I had measured it. Don't all boys! I couldn't utter a word. I just stood there looking dumfounded. Why wouldn't he stop smiling at me? He didn't even say, 'Hi'. He only smiled at me with that fiery look in his eyes. It was totally unbelievable what he was doing to me.
Finally, after 10 or 15 minutes of us just looking at each other his father called, "Brandon let's go." Brandon turned around and then turned back smiling at me. In the most seductive voice I have ever heard he said, "Bye, have a nice shower, Billy Joe." God he knows my name! He had never uttered more than 'Hi' or 'Bye" before.
Well, I quickly pulled my self together and said' "Bye Brandon."
As I said this, Brandon turned back towards me and I would have sworn he winked at me. That can't be! Could he really have winked at me? Nah! It must have just been the way the sun reflected off his beautiful face. God he was so handsome! I swear I almost came just standing there thinking how close Brandon had come to seeing me completely naked.
Considering it was summer time and a very hot day, I was able to finally finish my shower, especially since the water had now turned cold. When I returned to the house, pa with a big grin on his face said, "What's the matter with you? Did you fall asleep or something? You look like a prune!"
I didn't think he noticed my dick, which was still as hard as a rock. It seemed like forever before it would go down. I responded, "Nah! Just felt like taking a nice refreshing shower." Then I turned and went into the kitchen and fixed us lunch.
I am going to make someone a good wife (Just a joke there. No one has ever said I'm the least bit feminine acting). Ever since my sisters left home I got stuck with all the inside chores including doing the dishes, cooking, cleaning, and doing the laundry. Also in the spring, summer, and fall I was responsible for taking care of the animals and the garden. Only during the winter when there wasn't a lot of work to do on the farm did pa take care of the animals.
I don't know how I had time to study, but I did. I guess since pa and I got up at 4:00 a.m. every morning, and at least I was in bed by 9:30 every night, I was able to get a lot accomplished. Actually ever since I started school I had been getting up at 4:00 a.m. and gradually over time moved my bedtime from 7:00 to 9:30 p.m.
Well back to my story, I couldn't get this incident out of my mind. I relived it for the next year every night and sometimes during the day when the urge would completely overpower me to jerk off.
Yeah, you caught me! I was a normal American teenager after all. With my previous experiences with my brothers, I knew there was something that happened when you played with your self, otherwise why do it. My first experience playing with myself came when I was 13. Up until then whenever I got hard I just let it happen and would go through the uncomfortable process all boys have of trying to hide it and make myself more comfortable. That can sometimes be very difficult when there are nothing but girls around. No, they didn't turn me on!
It only occurred when I would catch myself daydreaming about Brandon or right after he had visited our home. Boy was I in a sorry state!!! I get turned on by Brandon just looking at me, but go totally out of control when some reasonably cute boy even suggests playing around. I must admit both Jason and Gary would have been considered cute by most guys' standards, but in my book they didn't even hold a candle to Brandon. Looking back on my growing up years I can not remember ever looking or even considering doing anything with another guy or girl for that matter.
Was I in love with Brandon? Probably. Ok! Definitely! But at the time I had no idea what love was.
Sometimes I would wonder if I am the only one who feels the way I do. Does anyone else feel so lonesome and so odd, so unwanted and dispensable, and so utterly sad all the time? Why are things the way they are? Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I'm never really happy? Why am I like this? Why do I have to be different? Why am I so alone? I often wondered how it is the one thing I wanted so badly, but which I knew I could never achieve, can hurt so much for so long. It had been years since I first realized I just wanted to be with Brandon. Not in a sexual way but just to be with him as a friend and him with me in the same way.
If love is a pure. If love is a thing that must be nurtured and cared for and doesn't just occur over night. If love is when you can't stand to be without that one special person. If love is when your heart craves even the slightest amount of affection from that one person. If it means lying awake almost every night crying yourself to sleep in hopes you'll one day understand why your feelings can't be fulfilled. If love is when you know where the other half of your soul is and you are struggling to arrive at a means of connecting with it. Then I was in love with Brandon.
The only person I ever thought about in terms of loving was pa, and that was only in the way of a love between a son and father. All right, I loved my brothers and sisters and even my extended family like Jason and my other nieces and nephews, but not the kind of love we are really talking about.
I don't think I put two and two together about how I felt about Brandon until my senior year in high school. When he went away to college and I didn't get to see him quite as often, I came to realize that somehow I had fallen for someone I had barely spoken to and definitely knew very little about.
Brandon came home most every weekend and would visit my games, but he still didn't speak to me other than the 'Hi' and 'Bye" when he came with his father. I noticed he always smiled at me with that knowing little grin after the shower incident. Whenever he came by or I would see him at one of my games it just made my day seem brighter. I just wanted to be near him. Actually, this had been the case ever since that first day when I saw him in our yard. I just didn't associate it with love.
When I received my acceptance notices for college and my scholarships, my immediate reaction was that I was going to Florida State. I knew Brandon was going there and figured this would give me more opportunities to see him. Due to our positions in life I didn't think there ever could be any opportunity for us to be friends. I just came to the realization I would always be seeing him only from the sidelines.
Later on as graduation came, I kept thinking of reasons why I should go to one of the other colleges. Obviously attending those schools would take me away from Brandon, but maybe that would be for the best and I could get him out of my system. No matter how hard I tried I would keep coming back to Florida State and Brandon.
Obviously having the only 4.0 grade average in my class or anything close to it, actually the first 4.0, in our high school, resulted in me being the valedictorian at our graduation ceremonies. I bet you will never guess who was the salutatorian - Ok so you're so smart. Yeah it was Gary Johnson.
I prepared my speech with the utmost care. I don't know if it was the best ever, but I know I kept the audience in stitches. I really enjoyed myself. I think I did a good job with my speech, but I know it was definitely better because Brandon was there. In reality both of his parents were there with him. I assumed they did this based upon some feeling of responsibility to their tenants. I couldn't imagine it could be as a result of my achievements. I really felt conspicuous during the ceremony, as it seemed all of the awards were going to me.
Actually Gary also received a couple of scholarships. Looking back he and I had been in competition through out high school in both sports and academics. The only problem was, I was at least .5 grade points ahead of him academically. He was also accepted at Florida State.
Still wondering where I am going with this? I bet you know who is the love of my life! Don't cha! It's obvious by now! Watch out you just might be wrong!!!! By the way I am known to be a pretty sneaky fellow.
How is this all going to work out? I can't believe you have any idea how things are going to be resolved? There have been a couple of clues given, but I think they are extremely well hidden. Still on the edge of your seat? Hold on a little tighter were almost there!!!