Jack Edwards

Gator 6

It was a dream about a memory; only this time, in the dream, Patrick chose me.

I woke to my alarm, blaring because I’d set it early. Hitting the off switch, I sat up in bed, rubbing my head. I liked the dream; I’d had it before. I liked the feeling I woke with. But as before, the memory of what actually happened came back vividly. The memory would always be vivid.

Patrick holding me at arms length, standing in my bedroom, me in my briefs and him saying, “No, I’m not going to hold you. You know how to turn me on and we aren’t going to do that, Jamie. I’ve told you. We aren’t going to do that any more. It’s gotta stop. I’m married now. I have a kid.”

I knew if he really wanted to stop, he wouldn’t have shut the door when he came into my bedroom. It’d been two weeks since our last time, and he was fighting it. But I was almost fourteen, and I’d been his lover for almost four years – I knew how to seduce my brother; it was so damned easy to seduce him. His hands were on my shoulders, so I hung my head, sadly, and stroked his bare forearms for the skin on skin contact. As long as I could touch him… the tears that came to my eyes were genuine, though.

“Aw, Jamie,” he murmured, and pulled me to him. He was already hard. I felt it. He might protest, but his body wanted mine. I melted into him and a moment later, his hands were in the back of my briefs.

It was passionate and desperate, and even in the heat of it, a certainty crept over my heart that it would be the last time. His heart wasn’t in it; only his body. He didn’t stay in bed afterward. He got up, dressed, and paused at the door. “We aren’t gay, Jamie. Call Pamela up. She puts out for you. Take her out tonight. Get your rocks off with girls like you’re supposed to.” He looked around the room we once shared. “I’m not coming in here anymore.”

He left, and I turned to the wall and wept.

Those memories passed through my mind in a moment, and the good feeling from the dream was gone. I’d set the alarm early that morning in order to hit the gym before work. It was Tuesday. Jenna was working on her masters and had night classes on Tuesday and Thursday. I normally worked out at the gym those evenings, and on Saturday afternoon after working in the morning. But today, this Tuesday, I hoped Gator would be waiting once more for me after school, and I wouldn’t want to head for the gym after being with Gator.

I always felt a little sexy working out anyway, but that morning, I couldn’t believe how horny I felt. Sexing with Gator so much, and then going all night without, had me pretty boned up all through my workout. The morning crowd was unfamiliar to me, so when a couple of chicks paid attention to me, I didn’t know whether it was because I was new, or they’d noticed my boner. They came on to me, but I didn’t respond to them the way I might have only a week before.

At one point, one of the attendants, a guy my age or a little younger, leaned back against a wall, near a guys' restroom just off the weight floor and opposite to where I was doing seated flies. I don’t normally use machines much, but I was in a hurry that morning. His eyes stayed on my crotch until, and at one point, he raised his eyes to mine, made a big show of scratching his balls and flopping his package around, and then he headed into the bathroom with a final glance over his shoulder at me.

He was a nice looking guy, and I might have noticed before. But Gator had me thinking; thinking about things I hadn’t let myself think about for a long time.

Jenna called my cell before lunch, wondering if I was working anywhere close by. I was, and she brought me a burger. We ate together in the shade of a tree while the other guys on the crew ate and rested over by our truck.

Jenna made small talk, telling me about her day before. She was happy. Watching her stirred mixed feelings. How happy would she be if she knew she had a rival, a boy? I felt guilty. I liked Jenna a lot; perhaps more than any girl I’d known. Maybe I even loved her, in a way. She was the best friend I had other than Patrick, and now Gator.

Patrick called my cell that afternoon. “Going to the gym tonight?”

“I went this morning.”

“Why don’t you come over then? Becky’s roasting chicken.”

The dream was too fresh, as were the awakened memories. Besides, Gator might be coming. “Some other time, Pat,” I said. “I just wanna stay home tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “The boys and I were going to challenge you to Madden.”

“Some other time.”

My evening was clear. For the rest of the afternoon, I thought of Gator, and the afternoon passed interminably slowly. Normally, I stayed at work later than the other guys, cleaning up, putting things away. But for the second day in a row, I left work as soon as I could.

"Jamie!" my boss called out with a good natured frown. "That hot girlfriend of yours is messing up your work habits!"

I shot him the finger, good naturedly, of course, and kept right on going.

When I stepped onto my back porch, there was a blur from the left as Gator sprang from one of the cheap lounge chairs and threw himself across the few feet between us and up into my arms. Laughing, I caught him with my hands under his butt, and he wrapped his legs around my waist. He grabbed my shoulders, grinning.

"I've had a boner all day," he said, "and I think I even made precum."

I laughed, turning us slowly, happy to be with Gator again. "You did, huh? We'll have to check that out."

With a sly smile, he rubbed his crotch on my belly. I could feel his hardness. "Check it out now."

I let his butt drop in my hands so that his hardness pressed mine. "You check it out," I told him. "You aren't the only one who's had a boner all day."

"Awesome," he said, bouncing against me, grinning.

"I'm filthy again, though," I pointed out.

"Bath time!" Gator called out triumphantly.

"Bath time!" I agreed.

And then, our smiles faded slightly, and Gator pulled himself up to kiss my lips... a lingering kiss. He rested his forearms on my shoulders and his forehead on mine. "Will you suck my cock, Jamie? I thought about it all day, and I really like the way you do it. I'll suck yours, too."

I glanced over at the books he'd left on the lounge chair. "Have you done your homework?" I asked.

"Most of it," he said, with a slight pout."

"That's good, sport," I murmured, "I don't think I can wait."

He grinned, and I got out my house keys while holding his butt up with one hand. "You gonna bathe with me again?" I asked. "Or would you rather pet Benny?"

"Screw Benny," Gator said laughing. "No, wait... screw you... and me!" He hugged my neck as I opened the door and stepped inside. He rubbed his boner on my lower belly and his hardness excited me.

Benny was waiting, and he meowed resentfully as we went past without stopping.

When I set Gator down in the bathroom, he looked up for a kiss which I gave him, open-mouthed, with my arms around him. Then I pulled up his shirt while our lips were locked and he fumbled with my belt.

We stripped each other, giggling between awkward kisses until we stood naked with our boners pointing upward; Gator's pointing up between my legs, mine pointing up his belly.

"You smell good," he murmured, hugging me around my chest.

"I smell damned sweaty."

"I like it," he said. "It smells good to me." He looked down between us. "You got precum again." With his arms still around me, he bent to close his mouth over my crown.

I moaned and stroked the back of his bare shoulders. He reached a hand under my balls and lifted them, fondling. He dropped to his knees and closed his other hand around the base of my shaft while he sucked the end. I held the sides of his head and shuddered. "Oh, damn," I mumbled as his twelve-year-old mouth worked over my glans. "I may not last long, sport. Let's sixty-nine, now!"

He backed off my cock, but kept a hold on it, and managed to keep a hold on it as I dropped to my knees and then onto my back and Gator swung a leg over my face. I pretty much swallowed him whole, and the aroma from between his legs hit me with a jolt to the groin. There is nothing like the smell from between a twelve-year-old boy's legs after he's been out and active all day. I rubbed my fingers on his perineum and held them to my nose. His soft scrotum draped my upper lip. I moaned… happily.

Gator pumped into my throat, and holding my cock with both hands, he sucked and licked over it. It didn't take long for either of us.

The mutual shower was more fun after that, with some of the sexual urgency gone. We washed each other and horsed around. When I shampooed my hair and my eyes were closed from the suds, Gator stole tugs at my dick, making honking noises until I caught him, my eyes still tightly shut, and I held him, tugging at his cock while I made honking noises, and he tugged mine, the two of us laughing. I felt like a kid again. I felt really happy.

I was hungry and fixed sandwiches. Gator sat astride my left leg to eat his while I tried to eat around him, right-handed. The hardness of his perineum and the softness of his scrotum, both resting on my thigh, the squeezing of my leg between his slender ones, the back of his thigh resting in my own groin, all provoked an erection in no time. Gator felt it against the side of his butt and grinned back over his shoulder at me. He reached back and gave it a squeeze.

"Oops!" he said, laughing. "I got mayonnaise on your dick." He grinned mischievously. "Want some mustard on it?"

"Don't laugh," I told him. "As kids, on campouts, we used butter to cornhole with."

Gator's head jerked back my way, and a grin spread across his face. "Gross!" He looked over the table, saw the butter dish, and rising a few inches from my lap, he grabbed it and brought it to our edge of the table. "I wanna try it."

I waited to see who he had in mind to be on the buttered end.

Gator lifted the cover and grabbed up the butter knife we had used for the mayonnaise. He looked from the knife to the butter, and then paused.

I laughed. “Use your hand, you nut!”

Gator glanced back at me, grinning; his large, gray eyes just delighted. He put down the knife, and scooped butter onto his fingers. Then he half twisted on my leg to smooth the butter over my cock.

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" I asked. "I mean, last night was your first time for this."

He nodded, concentrating on my cock. "Yeah. I liked it." He scooped more butter and then rose off my leg. Spreading butter into his crack, he backed between my legs.

Gator's white little butt, with yellow butter in the crack, looked small between my legs like that. I squeezed both little globes with my hands, pulling them apart, the crown of my cock only an inch away. "You've got a strong little butt, sport. I really like it," I told him.

"Yeah," Gator said, resting his elbows on the table as he bent over. "You really got lots of muscles in your butt, and I like that. I wanna butt like yours someday."

“We’ll work on it,” I assured him with an amused grin at the thoughts of how to work on it. I gave the side of his butt a little pat.

Then I put my fingertip at his opening and used my other hand to rub his back and relax him. He'd used a lot of butter. My finger slipped in easily. I simply held it, knuckle-deep, as Gator adjusted to its presence. He moved his butt in a small circle. I wiggled my finger, lightly brushing his prostate. I kissed his back. “You ready sport?”

“Yeah, sport.”

Holding him by the side of his hip, I guided his bottom back and down. When my crown was almost to the spot, I pulled my finger from inside him, and guided my cock in, instead.

We took our time and I leaned back to watch his little butt ease down my shaft. A thin stream of yellow, melted butter ran down toward my bare pubic mound. But his butt followed and soon his bottom was snug between my legs, and my cock was completely inside him. I lifted his legs across mine so that he was astride my lap and wouldn’t have to stoop. Gator leaned back against me, taking me even deeper inside, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him back to me. I nuzzled his hair and inhaled deeply. His tightness sat at the base of my shaft and his warmth caressed my length. The warm, smooth skin of his slender back rested against my chest and belly. He felt awesome in my arms. "You okay, sport?"

"Um-hum," he murmured, laying his head back so that his forehead rested against the side of my jaw. "Butter's weird. It feels all wet."

"It's melting," I told him with a chuckle. “We’re hot.” Reaching forward from either side, I grabbed the inside of each of his thighs. "Move around," I said. "Bounce a little."

Gator did. I grabbed his cock, squeezing and stroking, while I rubbed his belly with the other. Gator bounced a little more.

"Feel alright, sport?" I asked.

He wrapped his arms up behind my head and tilted his head back to bury his forehead in my neck. "Yeah, real alright."

"You can turn to face me, if you want," I said. "That works, too."

He didn't right away, but then, when we began to loosen up and move more solidly, Gator rose quickly off me, turned to face me, straddling my lap, and then lowered himself down again. As he sheathed my shaft once more, his own cock and balls came to rest on my belly. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed the side of his face to mine. I took hold of his bottom, and we tightened, belly to belly.

It was a good fit. We liked it that way, and Gator managed to come soon after I did, riding my cock before it went limp, and squirting onto my belly.

We cleaned up from the butter and cum, and I helped him study after that. The two of us lay side by side on our bellies on the carpeted living room floor. After a while, Gator moved on top of me, tummy on my back, watching from over my shoulder to read. He sprouted wood and rubbed it in my crevice.

"You aren't paying attention," I accused.

"I am," Gator replied. "But hold on a second. I'll be right back. I need some butter."

As I drove him home that evening, he reached a hand across, laying it on my leg, and he just left it there as we rode and he looked out the windows. I reached a hand behind his neck and gave it a gentle rub. "You alright, sport?"

He nodded, eyes closing slightly because he liked the neck rub. "Yeah, it's been really good, you know? Like, even at school; these last two days, the guys are treating me better – ever since the weekend."

"The campout?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "They think it's cool that you and me are tight."

"You and I?" I asked, correcting, feeling my blood go cold. "What have you told them?"

He frowned slightly. "I haven't told anybody anything. They just know we're tight from the campout." He shrugged his shoulders under my hand, so I worked on the sides of his neck.

"You remember the tall kid who didn't want to skinny dip, but then he did want to?” Gator asked. “David?"

I grinned, thinking, ‘David, the Boner Springer’. "Yeah, I remember him."

"Him and me... we're like friends now. He started hanging with me right off yesterday morning. We're in the same class."

"He's in sixth grade, too?"

"Yeah, he's like me; twelve already. It sucks. Our birthdays are after school starts. We should both be in junior high."

"No need to rush," I said. "Junior high isn't always cool."

Gator shrugged. "Sixth grade sucks worse. You know I’m in the same school as Jeffy and Daniel?" he asked, referring to my nephews, Patrick's boys.

"I figured."

"They've been friendly, too," he said. "Daniel started calling me cousin now, when he sees me, because you and me are friends.”

"They like you," I said.

Gator nodded and looked at me. "You’ve changed everything," he said. He took my hand from behind his neck and hugged the back of it to his cheek.

“And you’re changing everything for me,” I told him, quietly.

The next day, Wednesday, I had a house key made for Gator. “Cold weather’s coming soon, and the back porch will be wet and cold,” I told him that evening – he was waiting for me again. I had to take him home early, though, and go to Jenna’s. She was expecting me. She’d made supper for us.

I’d broken up with girls before, plenty of times. Some of them didn’t take it well, but they got over it, and so did I. Jenna was undeniably different. With Jenna, for the first time, I had begun to understand the kind of partnering friendship a man could share with a woman.

As I made love to her that evening, I remembered that last time with Patrick. I couldn’t do to her what Patrick had done to me. I might have to other girls, but how could I with Jenna? Sure, she was twenty-three and could probably handle it better than I had at fourteen, but the pain of my own hurt filled me with dread at the thought of hurting her.

As we lay together for sleep after making love, I thought about my dilemma. If I cared too much for Jenna to hurt her – if I wanted to not hurt her – how could I break up with her? And yet, I loved Gator. Sooner or later, I knew I would have to choose between them… the way Patrick did. For the first time in all those years, I had a glimmer of what he might have felt.

Gator was back Thursday night, and we used the hot tub for the first time. I didn’t keep it all that hot, and so we stayed in it when we made love… slowly, casually, dreamily… with Gator sitting in my lap, his back to me, with me inside him, while I stroked his cock and rubbed his belly and held him, and he nuzzled the side of my neck, his arms up behind my head.

He seemed to like having his arms up like that, while I rubbed his belly, hugged him, and stroked him. So later, on the floor, I pinned his wrists above his head and frotted with him, rubbing my cock between his legs till I brought him off, squirming under me. And then we snuggled, his smaller body curling into mine.

“Gator,” I whispered. “If we work it out for you to sleepover with me tomorrow night, would you like that?” Earlier, I had asked my boss, Judd, about bringing Gator to work with me Saturday morning.

“He doesn’t get near any of the machinery,” Judd said. “And if you use him for any work, you pay him out of your own pocket. Officially, I can’t have a kid working for me.”

“But it’s okay to bring him?”

“What am I going to say?” Judd asked. “You know the big soft spot I’ve got for this sorta stuff… underprivileged kid, you giving your own time to help him out. Sure. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Gator leaned back in my arms, our legs entwined, and he grinned. “Hell yes, I’d like that!”

“It might mean that you’d have to come to work with me Saturday morning, but I’d pay you if you want to help out.”

Gator’s eyes went wide. “I’d get paid?”

I nodded. “We can tell your mom that I’ve hired you, but that we have to be at work early on Saturday, and it’d be better if you could sleepover. What do you think?”

“Sure. Mom will say yes. She doesn’t care.” He bit his lip, and scooting up beside me, he propped up on an elbow and lowered his lips to my ear. “I have a secret,” he whispered. “Since you aren’t going to Jenna’s tonight, I was gonna ask if I could sleepover… tonight.”

“What about your mom? What about clean clothes for school?”

Gator’s mouth was still at my ear. “Mom won’t care,” he whispered confidently. “I’ll tell her we need to study late and I wanna sleep here. It’s closer to school anyway. We could sleep together two nights in a row.”

“You want to?” I asked.

Gator shifted, pressing his erection into my side. “Yeah, I want to!”

Laughing, I knelt up, threw him over my shoulder, and carried him laughing into my bedroom.

Before sleep that night, we brushed teeth together, like we did on the campout. We stood side-by-side at the toilet to take a bedtime piss together. And then we lay on the bed with the sheets thrown back; me spooned behind Gator, holding him close, his head on my arm. We glanced occasionally at the mirror overhead. Faint moonlight from the window fell on our nested bodies, but shoulders up, we were in shadow. My lean body was every bit that of a youth, and Gator’s, that of a boy. Nude lines, youth and boy. The smooth skin of our limbs and sides, soft in the faint light.

Gator watched in the mirror as I nuzzled in to the back of his long hair. “Jamie,” he whispered.


“We’re sorta awesome, aren’t we?”

“More than awesome. Much more.”

He wiggled his bottom more firmly into my lap while watching the mirror overhead.



“Can I sleep over here a lot?”

“Hell yes.”

He pulled my arm more tightly around his middle.



“Do you really love me?”

I hugged him and kissed the side of his neck. “Yeah, sport. I really love you… a lot.”

He sighed contentedly, rolled his head onto his pillow, and closed his eyes.

When I stepped up onto my back porch that next afternoon, Friday, and didn’t see Gator, I was confused. Not only had he been there four afternoons in a row, and I expected him the fifth, but also, we planned for him to spend the night. Then, I remembered I’d given him a key.

The door was unlocked, and Benny, my cat, wasn’t waiting, so I knew Gator must be inside. I pictured him, naked on my bed, waiting. My cock thickened.

What I found was Gator and ‘David the boner-springer’, in my living room, playing a game on my Xbox. David was the tall, blond boy who didn’t want to skinny-dip on the camping trip.

Neither of them had heard me come in. The two had pulled chairs from the kitchen table and placed them side-by-side in front of the TV. As I came up behind them, I noticed the outside of the boys’ legs rested together, as did their shoulders. David was a couple of inches taller than Gator. His silky, blond hair, though much shorter than Gator’s, still came down past the back of his neck. Even before he turned around, I remembered how striking his pale green eyes were.

It was a little upsetting to imagine that he might want into my Gator’s pants, which was exactly what I was imagining at that moment. When I was twelve like them, I made it into some of my buddies’ pants, and they made it into mine. And I had a gut feeling about David.

Gator glanced up at me and paused the game. “Hope this is okay,” he said. “Us playing on the Xbox and all. You remember David?”

“Sure,” I said, as friendly as I could manage, while what I was thinking was, ‘bug off kid, Gator and I want to be alone.’ I did say, “Good to see you again, Dave. I hear you and Gator are becoming buds.”

“Hi Mr, Kennedy,” David said, getting to his feet. “I told Gator we should ask you first before we did this.”

“Nah, chill,” I told him. “Gator’s got the run of the place. I suppose he told you that he’s been over a lot because I’ve been helping him with his homework.”

“Yes, sir, he did.”

“This is like, on the way home for David,” Gator said. “But I told him he’d have to leave when you got home.”

“I could use help with my homework, too, sometime,” David said hopefully. “I suck at math.”

“Maybe sometime,” I said with what I hoped was a sincere-looking smile. “I’m gonna go shower. See ya later, David.”

“Sure,” David replied, nervously and backing toward the door.

I felt badly. The kid was probably reading me despite my forced smiles. “We’ll plan on it soon,” I promised.

“Hold on a sec,” Gator told David. “I’ll be right back.” He motioned me to follow, and I followed Gator back to my bedroom where he turned to face me.

“Jamie, can I ask you something and you won’t be mad?”

“Sure, sport. How could I get mad at you?”

“Well,” he said, shuffling his feet. “I haven’t had a good friend in a while, well not a really good friend maybe ever, and like… I mean, David likes me and I like him, and well… I’ve never had a guy over for a sleepover because… well… you seen my place… and anyway, I was wondering if, like Saturday night when you’re gonna be with Jenna, I was wondering if I could ask David to sleepover here, with me, and we’ll like sleep in the living room on the couch or bedrolls or something.”

I almost made a big mistake. I almost gave Gator an I-know-what-you’re-up-to look, because I had a sudden insight that it might not be David trying to get into Gator’s pants, but the other way around. Instead, I forced one more smile and nodded. “Sure, sport, if your mom says okay. I’ll get Jenna to sleep over here that night so you can tell your mom you guys won’t be alone, and the two of you can have the living room.

Gator grinned hugely, grabbed the sides of my head and pulled my face down to his for a kiss before he ran happily from the room.

As I watched him leave the room, I felt a stab of grief. I’d had an insight, a realization, that the love Gator needed from me was not a love that would capture him, but a love that would protect him, make him strong, and let him be free. Patrick had pushed me away. I might very well have to let Gator fly away... if I loved him.


My email address is jnuanced@gmail.com. I appreciate the emails I've received from you guys. Thanks for the encouragement! If there's enough interest, I'll carry this story on to the second, and completing part. Or I could work on another story. Thanks for hanging in with me this far. :)