Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 05:20:17 -0800 From: Tim Stillman Subject: gay adult/youth "Daniel Meets a Comer" "Daniel Meets a Comer" by Timothy Stillman Yo Yo, Dandy Sandy, Well, how's you doin'? I'm having a ball, a-hem, I mean to tell you. Love being your roommate at Duke, but let me clue you in about my vacation time here at home. You know the bod you won't have anything to do with? That would be my bod in other words. Well, it don't hunger for yours no more. Least ways till I get back to university. But this has been a wild fourth of July and promises to be a wild fourth as long as I'm here. Cause there's--"say it soft and it's almost like praying"--Shaun--now you know how I palpitate for Doogie Houser and how I think the New Kids on the Block are the coolest thing in the world. Not to forget to mention Menudo which is of course a boy lover's paradise. But Shaun--well, let me tell you what--Shaun is the hottest ten year old kid in the world. He's got this devil may care (and I sure know I do) grin that is so sweet I could eat it with a spoon. Peaches and cream and a boner to boot. A boner that he showed me last night. Can you dig it? Here's this sweet little angel I'm baby sitting for cause Christ's on my side or something, and we're watching "Gates of Hell" on TV (he loves gory horror films, I wasn't really watching the movie, get into these things, me?, they kind of turn my stomach. Anyway, I was watching Shaun, out of the corner of my eye, ) and suddenly I'm beamed out of my sexual revelry by this little hand on my shoulder. This perfect little hand that I would like to put around my perfect you know what, and it's not so little, if you'd ever look, you'd know it, though it don't palpitate now for no one but Shaun. I'm sitting there with my dick hard and my one hand trying to hide it, and this little gift of love is looking right in my eyes as I turn my face to him, my cheeks red. Will I ever learn to stop blushing? It's embarraskin. A dead giveaway too. I'm thinking here's this little bright eyes and how nice it would be to be bare with him, and he looks right at me, and his eyes smile. Yes, I know cliche city, but they smiled anyway by god. And he's looking at me with a trembling lower lip. You know how boys with trembling lower lips get to me. Well, no you don't know, but you would, if you would ever pay attention to my escapades. Which are more numerous than yours with girls, El bucko. Anyway, I glance down at his lap--cause I'm always glancing at the nether regions of boys, and I see, my god on a crutch, his hard on which his left hand has molded, outlined, right in his jeans, a nice little worm right on his left leg, and I almost had a seizure. Here's this little boy long of blond locks and this cherubic face, and he's half turned to me, sitting on his left leg kind of, and he is outlining the doors of heaven to me. And let me tell you it's a pretty long rotorooter he's got for a kid that young. I almost come right then and there. And you know what? It leaves me positively speechless. And you know how I'm not speechless by a long shot not nowhere not nohow, and I tremble. I sigh. He smiles and he's got these little white Chicklet teeth that just frenzy me up one side and down the other. His eyes are big and brown and his face is just so porcelain fine it's off in another dimension somewhere. If dreams do come true, think of the one sitting beside me. So he smiles and lower lip trembles and his face is so guileless and so innocent I almost split a stitch. Now I know you are thinking well with all your experiences, Daniel my boy, with the boychoirs in boarding and prep school, how you wormed your way into their beds late and night and all of that, why did this boy flummox you? Well, I shall tell you, Sandy--cause I'm in love. For the very first time in my whole boner hungry life I am smitten, kaput, head over heels, bought the love farm, cause I ain't goin no where but here my whole life through. Also because I'm 21 this year and time's running out. Also because I've always been the one to put the moves on, and here this little lion cub is doing the move making to me. I forget Doogie and the New Kids on the Block (they were at the fair that I work at this summer, I got their autographs, they weren't impressed with me, fuck em I say--at least I didn't babble when I was around them) and even Menudo can kiss its creamy ass goodbye, I have Shaun. In this nice ranch style house in the arm pit of New Jersey, and I've been baby sitting this real doll baby for a month and have kept my hands free and clear, but last night promises that the next month and a half of baby sitting will be heaven on earth. He's got his hand on his dick under his jeans, and I think this means since I can see the outline so clearly, that he might not be wearing underwear. Not that I'm adverse to boys wearing Under-roos mind you, and rue the day someone got wise about those great TV commercials and had them removed--chickenshits!--little boys in Superman under-roos just made me fly through the room and no Kryptonite would ever stop my trajectory-ha! Anyhoo, here's this little Shaun and he's waiting in this big expensive wood paneled living room with its gracious living and all its silver and gold knickknacks and fancy rococo gilt and all that other stuff whatever it is, he's wanting me to say something, to say, exactly what I did say--"Ah, so, well, ah, so, Shaun, what's, ah, what are you, well, it's a mighty big, real, ah, nice, ah, well..." Okay you can laugh now. I'm always with the quips. Always with the right things to say to my quarry, and don't go all steamy moral on me Sandy, you play for the girlies just like I play for the boys. I got no corner on the market, by god. So little Shaun says, "Danny Boy, see any meat in the market today you might want to buy?" God. I never let anybody call me Danny Boy. I never ever let people call me Danny Boy. Not even you my former one and only, Sandy, my once and future king--are you still reading this by the way?--get your head out of those musty dusty old books for god's sake, and smell the sunshine, it's nice this time of year--and hearing this little girlie voice out of this little boy who might be a little girl, ceptin where it counts of course, say that kind of thing--meat in the market?--when he's never talked like that before, well, it courses through me like Donner and Blitzen and to all a good night--then he adds to it--"Salami's good for what ails you." And I'm in swooner heaven. I tell you my dick is so hard it's about to pound through my jeans and just break straight into that big screen TV that's still on, for which we've both lost--(we're deaf to all the screaming and chomping sounds in the movie--our own secret silent screaming and chomping sounds impress us far more)--let's say, interest--and it's cozy and air conditioner cool and he scoots closer to me, and boy can he scoot too, as he leans himself into my arm that is on top of the sofa behind him, with my hand that dangles spider on a strand carelessly recklessly close to his little boy shoulder, the hand I've not been able before this to bring to touch him. What's wrong with me? Losing my--touch? I'm a roue from Mandaly I think. He snuggles into the crook of my arm, this little crook, this little limpid deceiver, and he rests his head against me, while with his hand he is now massaging his boner which just thrills the life out of me. Now I know you know--if you've been paying attention at all--that I have had boys in bed in the shower in the quad at midnight in the restrooms in the gym at midnight in the shower room I am the champion boy lover of all time, is me, Daniel Sauerborn. But the thing of it is, Shaun, who can call me Danny Boy till the cows come home, what time do the cows come home these days?, has perplexed me and got me all in a dither. And he knows it too. This little devil who has never before in all this time I've baby sat him--thank god his parents like to go out on the town almost nightly, especially during the weekends!--leaving old Uncle Ernie here to mind their son--good morning campers--has been always polite and never said a bad word, never sure has said anything sexual, has not looked at me most of the time, has not really responded to anything I said. Has in fact treated me like I'm a parent--shudder. Like I'm an adult--shudder big time. He has done what I told him--no, you gutter minded slut, not that--I mean washed his face, brushed his teeth--I tried to get him to let me help him take a bath, no go--gone to bed on time, said goodnight, as he turned off the light, leaving only his nightlite on, told me to close the door on my way out, left me in the shadows, and there it has begun and there it has ended. But now this little boy is a little minx. And here I am on the cusp of-yetch--adulthood and I now have to worry about disparity in ages. What will it be like when I'm really old? 25 or so? Perish the thought. And I have to think of things like being told on--god what a stupid convoluted phrase that is--because when I was a boy, it was just boys being boys, and if I put a hand on a friend's blue jeaned crotch, he would either tell me to fuck off, bloody my nose, or be interested, and that was all there was to it. But now having grown out of that world--through no fault of my own--I figure Shaun will be my swan song, and that saddens me more than I can say. Still and all, Shaun, last night. Shaun who took my hand trembling with palsy on the back of the sofa and rested it on the top of his head, then pulled my arm around him and let me hold him. Well, have you ever held stars and planets and moons in your hand? If you have, then you know what that felt like. It's not the one two three in and out like with you and your girlies, Sandy, old man, it's more than that for me. It's tenderness and caring. Then three minutes or so later, it's the old one two three, but a little softness at least. Course I've been jacking off like mad every night after I get home from seeing Shaun. I think I've hidden my stick em up masthead from his parents when they come home. But did I hide it from Shaun who never seemed to notice I was there, other than seeing me as a shadow on the floor who gave orders, most of which, save the good ones, he obeyed like a robot? So, to get on with it, last night in the soft living room lighting, on the thick roomy cushy sofa, he rubbed his penis through his jeans and I watched him, while I turned the TV and VCR off, and we sat in silence, as I felt his lithe (doesn't that word just say it like no other word does?, I adore it) body against mine. Thinking I had so much to teach him. Thinking in the whirring thoughts of the night that surely he must be jacking off by this point. I did by the time I was eight. Four and five times a day. You should see me sometime, Sandy. I'm really good at it. You miss the best things in life. Boobies and cunts aren't the whole world you know, you splendiferous teaser, but you can't hold a candle to little Shaun, who smells of all the things boys smell of at that age--Play Dough and mud pies and summer air and sweat and that peculiar little smell boys have that comes from only what and who they are that I at least have never been able to categorize. The kid's got the world in this house--two computers, video games up the wazoo, video cassettes of every horror movie ever made apparently, big TV, smaller one in his room, comic books galore, teen magazines--wait--teen magazines? He has two huge stacks of them by his bed. But they're for girls. With all those pin up photos of boys. That's why I love them so much. Leif and Mark and David and Shaun and Aaron and Ricky and Joel, and holy shit!, the little fucker's gay. Good god almighty why didn't I twig onto that when I saw the magazines there shown on by his Mickey Mouse nightlite as he got under his Winnie the Pooh sheets and bedspread-- --well because I was concentrating on him and not slick covered magazines is why. But my god. He's another me! Okay I'm conceited. But who is not when you come down to it? What a holy hanna mother loving coinkidinkie this is. Tell Wonder Woman that I need that silver lasso right now, I got a boy to catch. Only get this, for the first time ever a boy has caught me!! What a relief. Now to relax. Now to just lie back and let Shaun work his wonders. Yeah, I know. Right. More pressures on me than ever before. How can I do it and he not knowing I'm doing it? Same old same old. Except it's new to me, formerly bold, formerly brash, formerly go ahead and kill me cause I've got hold of your peter but don't you want to know what a good suck from another boy is like before you make me bite the dust? Such new worlds to consider. Such scary worlds too. So we're sitting there for a time. Me playing statues. Him nuzzling into me more and more and rubbing his dick harder, a dick I would give my soul and bones and blood to see, I'd even give away you to see it, Sandy, sorry but them's the breaks, it's a hard cold world. And then--then--Shaun reaches a little hand over to my jeans and he plops that little warm tender thin long fingered hand right on my hard on right beneath the surface of my own denims and looks at me as I look at him. And he smiles--smiles so big time you might knock me over with a feather and name me Snorky. I manage to say, "Call me Christopher Robin." He says, and there is a certain note of chilliness in his voice I've not heard before, "no, you call me Christopher Robin, I call you a silly sex starved fool who ought to keep his thoughts to himself and his dick for other boys unless you're willing to pay the price for this one, cause I got a mouth and I can talk and I know what this is all about and you're as subtle as that zombie in that movie right now ripping out Christopher George's brain, and I can make your ass grass." Then he smiled another one of those smiles that caused two dimples on each cheek to deepen. And my heart compounded and looked for a place to hide, as I felt, what is this thing again?, oh yes, I've heard of it before, shame, that thing you keep telling me I should feel, but for real?, me experiencing shame?, wow, live and learn, right? Scared though I was, even that turned me on. Sweaty though I became and fearful like never before, that turned me on too. Here am I a pretty good no a great looking college boy who just catches the eye of everyone, boys and girls, when I pass along by them, leaving them longing for more and more than more, and here is this little kid who is standing up to me, who's got, as they say in old movies, my number. Which is truly wild, because I've always, except for you Sandy, and I'm not giving up yet by god, managed to put the other boy on the defensive, managed to make them think everything I do to them, good and bad, is their idea in the first place. And here Shaun Wilson, Shaun with the tight white T shirt, Shaun with the graceful long legs, Shaun with the body of a willow tree in a gentle rain, Shaun who has now talked dirty and sexually and has threatened me, Shaun in who I have gladly met and found myself devoured--I know he's been jacking off thinking about me, I just know it, most do, so they tell me--and I know he wants me only if I will do something for him, only if I will do something maybe I don't want to do--does he want money? His parents have tons of it. He has every creature comfort a kid can want and then some. But I am not a kid anymore. I've tried to hold onto it, yes, but I'm forgetting the way kids think. I'm like one of those Etch a Sketch pads, pull up the covering and the drawing is no longer there, or maybe just the outline of a drawing that was once there. This all seems sadder than it used to. Shaun is soft and Shaun is creamy and Shaun would be so nice to hold naked on me--and I plan to do that very very soon, as does he--and he would explore my bigger than his penis, and he would be fascinated by it and he would lie between my legs, on his stomach, and hold it and kiss it, and I would spread my legs out and I would look at this golden haired beautiful body, naked and he's all mine mine mine!, and his ass there for my eyes to trace down the wondrous thin slopes of it, as he looks his tender little face to me before going down on me, and there would be smiles galore from both of us--no, change that to there will be smiles galore from both of us very soon--so anyway, I said, voice cracking, my voice does not crack, I still have that high reedy tone, though deepened a bit, that I had when I was a kid. I manage to crack out, what do you want me to do? And he smiles at me and he says, "I want you to, clumsy stupid boy fucker, take off your clothes and let me paddle you. Not hurt paddle. Fun paddle. And then you can do with me whatever you want for the rest of the summer." What has this kid been doing all these ten years? He is suddenly so experienced. Suddenly so all knowing and all wise. What can I soak up from him I can use. You know me, vampire Daniel, never knew a person I didn't learn to imitate and mix in with all the others. You say cause there's nothing in me that's me. Horsefeathers. But this kid is beyond me. He says, "Strip and strip now by god!" Hey, that's my line! So like a puppet on a string, like a marionette on a wire, I stand up without a word and start stripping, thinking how great that he's going to see me naked and I'll see him naked and I am taking off my summer green short sleeved shirt, and fumbling with the buttons, as I check my clock watch and see we have at least two hours till his parents get home so he's not setting me up for a practical joke, like I'd be standing here buck naked in the living room when they walked in and little angel from heaven would be all askew eyed and lower lip quivering which would probably affect them in a different way than it affects me. The thick drapes are closed. The living room lights are low as always. The house doors are locked. This night, we shall explore love. I have my shirt off and now I'm unbuckling my belt and unzipping my jeans. I wear no briefs or anything, and of course as I pull them down to let the thwong and balls of me free, I realize that I've neglected to take my shoes and socks off, never one time in the past has that happened to me. Shaun laughs at me. He laughs at me and says "fool boy, real fool boy" and he gets off the couch and runs helter skelter to his room which is a long way down the corridor of this vast many roomed house with many halls and maze like--I guess I'm the rat in the maze box trying to find myself some dignity--that's one thing, sucking away, being sucked away, I always have maintained my dignity. Except with you, Sandy, how I lusted after you the first time I saw you, how I've bugged the hell out of you, saying I'm your slave for life if you will just let me kiss you pleasepleaseplease, but I always respected you, right?, even when you would come back to the room, drunk and stoned and pass out on your bed, I never did a thing to you, took a photo of you once when you were zonked, with all your clothes on, showed you the photo to make sure I'm an honorable person, right? So, I start to run after him and of course fall right on my face. Splat. Right into the nubby green carpet, where I had dreamed in my j/o fantasies I would first strip and have my way with Shaun. I could hear Shaun distantly in his room, laughing to beat the band. So I'm sitting up and taking off my sneakers and socks. Got a knot in the string of my left shoelace, took forever to try to get it out, finally just pulled the sneaker off still partly tied, and raced naked as a jaybird down this corridor and that. My spatial sense off and I couldn't find the little fox's room. Till I was running past the kitchen door and Shaun steps out right into my path. I stop. Still hard. Still ball tight. Shaun is still clothed, dammit, but it's fun being with him this way too. In his left hand is a paddle. Identical to the ones that teachers in school use. Made of wood. Oblong. A nice cherry finish handle to it. Good for swinging. "You've been a very bad boy. You shall have to be punished. Bend over, silly boy," Shaun, who is beginning to scare me, says, and let me add, he is really and truly seriously beginning to scare me--because he is using my schtick in other words--oh Sandy if you had only been there, if you were only with the two of us tomorrow night, what great sybaritic fun we would have--so I, formerly known as Daniel, now answering to the name of Silly Boy, bend over, as he comes to stand behind me. I feel his hands on my butt. It turns me on like I can't stand it. My glasses fog up, I kid you not. He rushes back with the paddle, I feel the whoosh of air, and I grit my teeth, tighten my buns, feel my cock beginning to shrink, and wait for the pain. But there is none. He taps me on the butt with the paddle and he reaches between my legs and grabs my balls and reaches up further for my boner which has grown tall again. O take me Shaun right here and now take me. He leans his body against my back. He tells me to stand up. He tells me to turn around. I do so gratefully. He tells me to turn around in a circle and let him see me. Gladly I do so. I've never been anyone before. Not until Shaun. He comes to me. He lies the left side of his face against my chest. I reach for him. He pulls back. "Tomorrow night," he says. Then, "Go get dressed. We'll finish the movie." And I did. Happily. Hopefully. Letting him watch me all the way to the living room, then as I dressed, he said, "I've seen better. But you'll do for now." I smile. I feel so damned good. We sit on the sofa, miles apart, and finish watching the movie. The screams once more. The jagged broken glass music. The chomping. The stringent harsh colors of the movie again sickly flowing over us. I don't look at Shaun. Not even out of the corner of my eye. I don't know why. Only that I can't. And I'm trembling and frightened and can't wait to get home so I can unload. We don't speak again. He's back to being a polite, dutiful little boy and I'm back to my new role of a parent who might not really be there in his mind save as an annoyance. And then it's his bedtime, and--hope hope-- but there is none-- we follow the old routine. He has become more than human to me. He has become my world. But it's like tonight never happened. Save this, before I turn out his room light, leaving his nitelite on, he says to me, "Get ready for the good stuff. And close the door on your way out." And by god I just remembered. Christ, Shaun looks just like him. I'd never met the Wilsons before. I got the baby sitting job from a friend of a friend. And Shaun. Looks like Jerry. Way too close like him. Shaun looks like Jerry did when we were ten ourselves. Jerry was my first. I cut my teeth on him, so to speak. Why did I not know, notice the resemblance? Jerry who was all squirmy and out of sorts and screwy, and like, feverish,(not laughing and having a good time like he always did,) after it was over. Jerry who made me swear never to tell anyone. Who kept saying he was sorry, sorry, what he made me do. Jerry who was so ashamed even though of course it was really was his idea in the first place. Jerry who left boarding school shortly thereafter, who never came back, who maybe fell off the world for all I know. Or care, really. I hadn't thought of him in all these years. Coinkidinkie that I'm baby-sitting what must be his kid brother? Twilight Zone music cued up. All this on purpose? Sheer accident? My penis was hard till now when I thought of this. Now it's soft again. I don't remember boys. I'm on to the next one as soon as possible. But I remember Jerry more than a little vaguely, though not much more than that, because he was the first. He told me, after it was over, that he loved me, like he had to say it or something, and he sounded like he was deep in a well, when he said the words. Which are nothing more than words. Don't deprive me of my fun and freedom, man. Don't fence me in. That was so selfish of him. What gall. I laughed at him. Then, right after, I held him closer and kissed his mouth. He didn't kiss back, though. Just lay there on his back. Waiting for something. What? Does Shaun plan retribution? Was that why he treated me meanly last night? And I took it. I took it because I'm in love with him and no one else ever again--at least until he turns 13 or so? I can't go back there of course cause I don't know what spider's web I'll be walking into. But last night was Valhalla also. It was kicky being the one acted upon. I've wanted that all my life. And if that's the kind of punishment he has in mind, lead on MacDuff. Now that I am about to have experiences like I've never had before, I feel strung out, feel as though I'm boxed in, don't know what to do. Feel kind of shaky. I was feeling so damned good just minutes ago and I had to go and remember. What do I do, Sandy? What happened to Jerry? Am I totally wrong and the kid doesn't look a thing like him? Am I going crazy? Now, I don't know. It's one in the morning and I have to get some sleep. But I won't be able to. There are butterflies in my stomach and I find in all of this stuff going on in my head, I'm more deeply in love than ever before. Or simply ever. Wow. What oh what will happen next? I'll play it out for a while while maybe he plays me out for a while, but I'm bigger than he is, and older and wiser and I know the tricks and he does not, he's just a kid for god's sake, what hold can he have on me?, what can he do to me unless I let him? Nothing of course. Well, tell, of course. But I'm pretty glib and can talk my way out of that, right, Sandy? Only Shaun does have a smile so sweet I could eat it with a spoon, and he paddled my naked be-hind and he groped me and god help me, Sandy, I'm hooked big time, and he can do anything, absolutely anything to me he wants. I just have to have him. I'll go out of my head if I don't. I just hope he toys with me a while before he beaches me. Me? The one getting beached? There's an odd concept. This will be one to remember fully and completely. I'll never mention Jerry though. Hope he doesn't either. If he really is Jerry's kid brother, does he know I was Jerry's first lay? Jerry would have never told anybody. Certainly not a brother who came along later. Should I ask him what happened to Jerry if Shaun is who I think he is. No. Better not. This whole thing is like getting a second chance at first time sex with my first boy once again ten. Only this time, I'm going to be the one who gets done to. Well, this should prove pretty interesting, don't you think? Stay Tuned, Dandy Sandy, Fool Boy