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Copyright 2003 by Nicholas. The author retains all rights to this story and requests that you do not alter or post this story in any form without his permission. The following is a work of fiction. The characters are purely fictional, as are the events. This story depicts acts of love and sex between consenting persons, youth and adult. If stories of this nature offend you, please leave now.


If you are under age then get your friend and have him read it to you. Sit on his lap and cuddle up, I hope you'll love the story as much as you love him.


Surfer Magazine, in their collectors edition of October 2001 had an article by Rod Cox defining a grom:

"You are definitely NOT a grom if ... A. the last time you paddled out you were clinging to your dad like a baby sea otter. B. when someone asks you if you think "Barney" is cool, you say, "Yeah, but those Teletubbies are kinda scary." C. you ride any board with a deck softer than its bottom. D. you've shaved anything other than your head, graduated from anything other than the eighth grade, ... or paid rent by any other means than cleaning your room, taking out the garbage and promising not to pee on the toilet seat.

You definitely ARE a grom if ... A. you can get to the beach by yourself – or in any automobile or public conveyance other than your parent's mini-van. B. you have been either punched, kicked, spit on, Dutch-rubbed, pantsed, pink-bellied, head-shaved, tampon-nosed or otherwise humiliated by older surfers, who obviously consider you enough of a pack member to perform initiation rites. C. you have more than two stickers on your board not laminated under the glass. D. you're between the ages of 11 and 18 and can actually surf."


Namaste, Nick



The Grommet – Chapter Four


sandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandCamandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandWavesandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandSunandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandBoardsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsanddsandsandsandsandsandsandNickandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandndsandsandGromsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandHugsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandHomeandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandLoveandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandFathersandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandSonsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsandsand


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


The earth begins where sand first captures waves' caress. In solar time it travels west, then stops where waves take sand back in again.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Grains of sand more numerous than the stars upon the heavens. Sparkling sands like diamonds ground against themselves.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Black or white or dusty sands of upper beach, embraced and held by grass and creeping vines. Hard packed sand before the break completely wet; the quintessential sand-castle sand. Fiery hot and sunbaked sand above the tide line, never wet except by rain or storm tossed spume.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Shifting sand that's never still as wind will trail it out and back behind the smallest shell and rock. Anchored sand beneath the shallow waters of the break, so still so calm so fixed in place until a human foot attempts to hold it still; then carving out beneath, behind, below until the foot must move or all would topple o'er.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Sands of time that could not possibly run out. Choking sand that takes the art of man and drowns it in a slow and breathless suffocation that they may understand. Cleansing sand allowed in ritual ablution where water is not found. Moonlit sands where hand in hand the Owl and Pussycat danced. Hot sand and ginger when alive. Sand that holds the print of lovers' feet until eternity can reunite.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Sand that mixed with salt can ne'er by man be torn again apart, but sand so mixed and washed by but a moments rain is suddenly quite pure. Sand that wrung will not yet yield a drop. Sand that holds no water back, it let's it sink. Sand that's bagged to stop the flood, to stop the water's creep.


Sand.


Sand and sand and yet more sand.


Cam's tears seemed endless like the miles of sand. I held him tight against my chest and thought of C. Rossetti's poem,


What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow;

What are brief? Today and tomorrow;

What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth;

What are deep? The ocean and truth.


I didn't know if all his tears were now for what had been, for what was past, for what as yet might be? I knew the heavy feel of sorrow; I knew the frailty of his youth. I hoped the safety he seemed to take from me was not just brief. I knew I had to ask, I had to make him say. The truth was deep, deep in this boy, but just as deep I knew I had an ocean full of love. Among the grains of sand that told my life, that gritted on my past, that now surround my fate I had an ocean deep enough of love to let him claim my bed, my dog, my heart and now my very soul.


I comforted him as best I could. Daisy stayed right by our side.


His sobs were wracking at my chest. His tears had soaked me through. He slowly, slowly calmed and as he turned from cries of anguished pain, his tiny hand crept from around my neck and slowly trailed down my chest until it found her head. It worked it's little fingers in among the fur and had she been a cat I'm sure we would have heard her purr. She gave a little kiss, a little lick against his arm and worked her way in even closer to our bond.


I stroked his slender yet still heaving back. I cradled his shining, dripping cheek. I used my finger to wipe the runnels of his tears. I kissed the glowing head beneath my lips.


He turned his heartbreaking melancholy face to mine and as I met those deep dark azure pools I spoke my heart out loud.


"I care Cam. I love you son. We'll make it all come right," and bending forward just a bit I kissed him on each ravaged eye and on his forehead too.


His hand left Daisy once again and flew around my neck. I gasped at the intensity of his sudden hug. Crushing into my chest he stole my breath to hold with all the rest he had already claimed.


We stayed like that for a heartbeat of time, a universal heartbeat. A span of time for every star and moon within the universe to turn and stare, to see and bless, to tell the ocean of our truth in this connection. Then he dropped me as suddenly as he had grabbed me and turned to Daisy. He fell upon her with the same intensity of will, the same urgency of need, the same driving quest for love.


Daisy kissed those same sweet eyes, the same sweet face and ever the protective mother, cleaned the trails of now dried tears.


"I love you too, I love you both!" I heard him tell her fur.


He kept the hug another heartbeat, another universal pause. Then lifting him back to my chest I took his chin under my fingers graze. "Now, we must talk. We've just professed our love. Look at Daisy there, she'd never tell a lie. We'll make it right, we'll set it straight, but you have got to help. Your mother's number..."

"I can't!" he cried, "No wait, I can't because it's gone. She's gone!" he said beseeching me with flashing indigo prayers to understand.


"You said that before, yesterday," I smiled, "Now tell me what it means." I reached behind his ear and brushed his cheek.


"Why'd she go?" he started back without an actual explanation. "I didn't do anything to her! I know she hated me. I know I was a fucking chain around her neck, but I never caused any trouble!" He was pleading now, "I didn't! I was quiet, I was good, I stayed out of the way." The sobs were coming back. "He made me, but I didn't get in her way! I didn't!" and he was crying into my chest again.


Daisy looked up at me with a baleful expression as if to say, "What's up with you! We just had him better and now you send him back!" She stuck her muzzle right in between us and rooted him back out from my chest. Then licking his face again, she actually coaxed out a little giggle and an almost shy but tearful grin.


"Okay, she's gone, now tell me the rest."


He took a desperate breath as if he was now facing the execution squad, but clamping all his willowy fingers in Daisy's fur he started to really talk.


"We live up in the trailer park, you know up above the strip?" I nodded that I knew where he meant. "Well, we have a little trailer and not much room, but I keep my board outside and have a bed under the table. You know a sleeping bag and pillow? When they get drunk and sit around and scream and shout I just crawl underneath and hide. If it was warm I'd go outside and sleep under the trailer. Mom has her bedroom up in front and we have a bathroom and the kitchen - living room. When Hector came, he moved in with Mom. I didn't like him, but I wasn't going to get in the way. I tried to stay away as much as I could, so I wouldn't mess her up. I'd go to school and surf. I'd hide under the table or outside. He'd drink and smoke some dope and try to give me some but I always stayed away. He was hers not mine, I didn't want that junk!"


I grazed his cheek again and gave a little hug. Daisy poked his arm with her snout to get him petting her again.


The story once it had started now came pouring out. "He kept trying to make me drink or smoke the dope. She'd get real pissed and hit me on the head and yell at me to get the fuck outside. Then she'd go to him and they'd get all sexy, feeling up and stuff. She'd take out his cock and suck him or she'd get undressed and start to sit on him and take him up inside. I'd try to get my pack and just get out before they'd see me again. If she'd see me she'd start to scream and yell and tell me she wished that I was dead, just a fucking chain around her neck, why couldn't I just go get fucking lost! I'd run as fast as I could. If it was morning I'd go to school, if it was afternoon I'd already be surfing so they could do whatever it was they wanted. If it was night I'd just try to disappear."


"After school one day I came home and she was gone, he was gone, it was gone. I didn't know what to do!" and he was once again hugging into my chest.


"What was gone? What was it Cam? If he was gone you had to be almost glad." I ventured.


"The trailer was gone!" he sobbed. "My board was there and my pack was thrown out in the bushes, but the trailer was gone! They'd just chucked me out and left!"


"God!" I groaned and hugged him even harder to me than he had done before. "I understand now. You can't call because there is no place to call! I'm sorry I'm so dense."


"No!" he shouted. "It's not you! You couldn't know! It's me! He made me and then I wouldn't and then she hated me more and then they left! I didn't mean to get in the way! I didn't mean it! I didn't!" and he was a crying mass of quivering disintegrating boy .


Daisy had had enough! She backed up and looked at me like I was nuts and then she barked. Not a gentle woof like when she'd called me down to his garbage nest. Not a demanding bark like she used to tell me to get into the bedroom and fix him when he was wet. Not the joyous bark she'd shared when we were playing on the beach and in the hose. This was an angry bark, a bark that told me clearly this was enough! A "Get with it idiot!" bark. A bark that plainly told me stop! Stop making him cry! Stop making him this painful mess.


I held him close and then stood up and rocked and walked across the deck. I was pacing and she seemed to sense I understood. She cocked her head and looked at me then dove into the house. Before I could even guess she was back with his shorts in her mouth and standing on the second step down and toward the beach. When I didn't stop, she jumped up and actually bumped me towards the stairs and shook the shorts at me.


Suddenly I understood, she was a gifted teacher this new girl in my life. I understood. I plopped back in the chair and she practically forced the shorts into my hand. Then making sure I never lost my cradling embrace she seemed to guide my hands as I managed to pull the shorts on our nearly comatose boy. Standing back with head cocked again, she watched me rise and then she jumped back to the steps.


"Yes, Girl. I get it, the surf can heal, the sand can smother some of this pain. The moon can shine it's light on him. Let's go!"


This time I got the joyous bark reserved before for boy and stick!


We must have walked the sand for miles. I held my boy, Daisy scouted out the territory ahead. I tried to hold the inner trolls at bay, she kept the sand clear of demonspawn. I felt him seem to hold the weight of all the pain of all the world. He softly sobbed and cried and every step he seemed to pull me down. I shifted him from side to side.


Daisy would be scouting out ahead, then come trotting back and dance a little dance and circumambulate our hugging, desperate, walking love embrace. Satisfied that I had got this down, that I was doing it all right, she'd bounce ahead again to clear our path. Just when I thought I couldn't bear him any more, my arms would surely break, he suddenly released a sigh and all the weight was gone. The fears were sent away, the trembles tossed into the surf, the ripples of the pain were squashed into the sand. He was released, he was asleep, he was no burden for me to bear.


Daisy seemed to know immediately and turning from our path she gently blocked my way and steered me round and now back home again. The dog had shown the way; now the moon had crossed the sky and lit the path back home. I know I passed a few of our evening walking friends, I got an eyebrow raised or two, but mostly I got smiles, smiles of those who knew a comforting embrace, smiles of those who saw a father and a tired son heading down the beach, heading to safety, heading home.


I prayed that we were heading now to rest, to peace for Cam at least, now, for this night. I couldn't bear his pain to be like Lewis Carroll's sand:


The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand:

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

“If this were only cleared away,”

They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,” the Walrus said,

“That they could get it clear?”

“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.



We'd had enough of bitter tears today. We'd had enough for life, but I understood there would be more. It wasn't over yet. There were too many questions yet to clear, too many plans to make, too many chances for mistakes, too many things just hinted at. I needed help to make him whole, I'd need the help myself I guessed.


I held him in my arms under the moonlight on the deck. Then I gently took him back inside and laying him in bed, I crawled beside and held him there, our hearts like counterpoint, his quick and peaceful little breaths two to one to mine.


Daisy hopped into her bed and reassured I knew my place, she closed her eyes and slept.


--


The cold cruel nose of morning poked me from my dreams. We'd set a truce on safety now that it was warm, the patio door was standing wide, she needn't wait for me to let her in or out, but still the shock of nose against my shoulder prodded me awake. I opened eyes to see those other eyes, boring into my soul. That clear and happy radiant electra blue glides swiftly deep inside and then they speak. "Promise!" they demand.


"I promise, Cam!" I quickly complied. "Now what have I just promised to?"


"You've promised you are not a dream! This is twice I have woken from a wondrous night and there you really are! You too Daisy!" he raked her with those neon probes. "It felt so good to feel you holding me. I never wanted to wake in case it was just a fake. But then I looked and you were there, you were holding me, and now you've promised not to disappear."


I hugged him close and caressed his back, "I won't disappear, I promise!" I sighed into his hair. "Now let me up! I have to pee," I chuckled digging a finger beneath his tempting ribs.


"Hey! ME TOO! Don't tickle! I'll explode!" he cried.


I hugged him back again and shifting with my feet, I rolled over on top, elbows and knees keeping me from crushing him and then I kissed his forehead and dropped him there and hopped up out of the bed. I stepped into the bathroom and was just beginning to release my stream when his elbow poked my hip.


"Move over quick! I have to go!" he squealed and danced a little jig. "Hey, my pants are on backwards! I can't get it out!" he cried.


Seeing his face near panic, I reached across and grabbing the shorts beneath the crotch I just yanked and down they came. He barely got a hand aside to point it down before the flood. His face went slack from the relief and I'd swear his eyes rolled up.


"God, that feels so good!" he sighed.


I've known the feeling sometimes myself, when release of the bladder seems to bring release of all the tension in the body. I saw him give a little shiver about half way through, his aim shuddering from side to side. I finished myself with a little squeeze and shake and watch him pee what seemed to be a gallon more.


Finally done, he gave his softer cock two pulls and then one decided downward shake and kicked the shorts away. "Stupid shorts! How'd you get on wrong?" Then looking up at me I got a cobalt over crimson grin.


"Daisy's fault!" I said and told him of his dressing and our walk


I reached across the room and gave the shower control a flick, "How 'bout a wake'em up shower Sunshine?"


"Yeah!" he squealed. "I haven't had a real bath or shower now for weeks!" Without another moments wait he hopped inside and turned and grabbed my still outstretching hand he pulled me inside too.


"Well!" I exclaimed, "I meant you not me!"


"Wash me please?" those melting royal orbs beseeched.


"Sire, how can I refuse!" I bowed and knelt before my prince.


I started with the edelweiss and chamomile shampoo. I lathered his water darkened platinum head.


"That smells so good, and feels so good!" he cooed into my ear.


I changed to edelweiss body wash and used my hands to do a quick first rinse. His body shuddered at the touch, but he did not shrink away. Taking the loofa and the wash I started on his neck and gently stroked and scrubbed his chest and stomach next. He seemed to lean into the sponge and I could watch the blood rise to the capillary flow. His skin began to glow. I was going to skip around his sex, but as I worked his hips, he seemed to sense my plan, because his hands grabbed mine and led them to his body's secret center. He guided me across his pubic hollow and round and beneath his jewels. Then keeping one hand on my loofa'd hand he led the other directly to his spike and using my fingers as he might a cloth we completely washed his gift.


He let go my hands and leaned against my shoulders almost singing as I worked down each lithe sylphlike leg. I thought the loofa might be too rough upon the inside of those pearly thighs, but as I gently scrubbed they too drew the inner essence of the boy and soon he glowed from luminous creamy white where shorts still kept him from the sun to glowing almost gilded tan across the tops of his perfect feet. I wished I was the lucky sun to have the joy of shining down and kissing them, I pretended that I was and lifting one and then the other I softly dared to brush them with my lips.


I straightened up and turned him gently round and starting back again, where once I'd done the front, I now worshipped the back. His hips held straight, his tiny angel buds of wings stood out and begged caress. The tendons of his back driving from the tops of shoulder tips down and down and down into the bowl above his bottom demanded long and loving strokes. He staggered back each time I reached his upper cleft because his body leaned so strongly into each sweep.


Then sensing once again my hesitation, his feet stepped a tiny bit apart and he simply grabbed each cheek and pulled them strongly out opening his most sacred place to my caress. I set aside the loofa's unflinching tenacious touch and used my hand again in whole and loving strokes to clear the seasalt, to rinse the sand away, to anoint this precious rose with oils of edelweiss. He sighed again as I gently stroked the full length of this sweet crevasse. He shuddered as he had before from sweet relief when now my finger nuzzled gently at this entrance to his being. He let his cheeks come loose and trapping my finger where it lay against his gate, he spun around and grabbed me round the neck. He collapsed against me once again and sighed, not crying now, not deep in some torment, but perfectly content, his radiant hair beginning to sparkle once again, the glow of last night's moon reflected back upon myself. The burnishing of suns yet still to shine upon his tender skin already echoed, precognate. I lifted him and stood and turned beneath the waters flow. My back to the force, a river of warmth cascading down across my shoulders, across my back, just barely coming over my chest and drawing us both in.


He had found some peace last night. I could feel he'd found it once again. The theta waves of love and harmony drove out from in his head and into my waiting chest, my heart, the center of my self.


I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel and wrapped it round his shoulders as best I could one hand still clasped inside those sweet full cheeks' embrace. I walked into the kitchen and kicking out a chair I sat and stood him gently up in front of me. Withdrawing the hand from between his legs, he sighed and shivered again as he released. His face was wondrous with his peace. An enigmatic tiny smile consumed him and as I gently buffed him dry he was more like unmolded clay before me than any standing finished piece.


"Okay, Cam, clean shorts and shirt are on the dryer. Get dressed while I get some breakfast set. Corey wants to see you at school today, you promised Jim."


"Hummmm," was all he sighed but in his blissful trance he managed to get dressed and soon was sitting at the table, right foot curled up and underneath. He ate a bowl of cereal in silence still aglow from the synaptic stimulation and the endorphins running through his brain.


As he was finished I asked him if he wanted me to take him off to school, to see the office, give them my address.


He shook his head, "No. I think we'll just leave them alone."


"But don't you need a note?" I asked, "You missed two days of school!"


His laughing trill caught Daisy in midstep, she stopped and looked and cocked her head and then deciding it was good, she came and laid her muzzle in his lap. "A Note! I never bring a note. They look at me and tell me I have to have a note. I just stand and look at them right back. I never say a thing, I never argue and never move. They always get a funny look and then tell me okay, off to class. My mom's never ever written me a note, or gone to school, or signed a single thing. They always tell me, but I just stand there and they never make me leave."


"I'm sorry Sunshine, I had no idea," I sighed.


"It's okay you know," he said and reaching out touched my hand as if to reassure me.


"Nick?" he asked in almost a whispered breath, "You promised right? You'll let me come back today?"


"Of course you will come back."


"Really? You want me to come back?"


I had a sudden inspriation. "I promised, right?"


He nodded yes.


"Wait Cam, don't move a bit. Let me show you something about my promise and a promise that you made to me last night. Okay?"


"I made a promise to you?" he dared to ask.


"Well kind of, you and the moon and the beach and the ocean and Daisy all together. Now wait, don't move!" I jumped up and ran to the darkroom. Bringing back a poster board of black mat paper I laid it on the ground next to his chair.


"Now, yesterday I washed those clothes you're wearing now, do you remember?"


"Yes," he said.


"And just a little while ago I washed you right?"


"YES! It felt so good so nice, I thought I'd die!"


"Well, okay then you are completely clean? Right? Just spic and span from head down to your toes?"


"Yeah," he giggled, "Mr. Clean!"


I laughed, "And pretty witty too! Now, stand up and step right here, right on the middle of this sheet. Come on don't worry it's just a piece of mat, if it gets ruined I'll just buy some more! Now Move! Stand there, just there!" I pointed and he stood and gingerly stepped on the sheet.


"Okay now, here goes the test!" and I started at his head. I tousled out his hair and whipped it good until it was a spiky mess, I shook his shirt and brushed his shoulders, and down his arms and in between each slim and lovely finger. I ran my hands up underneath his shirt and rubbed across and down his back. He sighed then giggled when I gently brushed his chest and tummy. I grabbed the waist band of his shorts and plunged a hand inside. I lightly brushed his hips, his tender bubble butt, I brushed above his little rising cock and then I stroked it once and reached beneath and lightly rolled his tender eggs between my fingers. He shuddered once again and I could see his eyes begin to roll up and back, but that was not what this was all about. This was proof of safety, proof of love. I let his jewels return to rest and brought my hand out and quickly grabbed the shorts on either side of hips. I shook them back and forth then up and down. I ran my hands from the top of each long delicate leg all the way down and to his ankles. I thought he might fall over, I could see he was so captured by the feelings in all these nerve cells once again. I had him lift his toes and I brushed the tops of his feet and then between each little piggy straining for their own complete caress. I grabbed him underneath his arms lifted the entire boy with a gentle little shake. I set me down outside the paper's bounds. I hugged him to my chest and asked, "Okay, now what do you see?"


He looked at me askance and said, "A piece of paper, Duh!"


"No Duh! You don't! Get down there on your knees and look again, get right up close and tell me what you see!" I almost pushed him down and I got down beside him.


He looked out at the mat and then his eyes grew wide and his head snapped round to look at me. "Sand!" he said, "I see sand, look, there's sand all over the sheet, except LOOK! You can see where my feet were because there is no sand!"


"I grabbed him and hugged once again and cried, "You're right! It's sand. Sand from my spic and span boy. Sand from Mr. Clean! And you know what?"


He shook his head.


"That sand is you, that sand shows how you are now in my life. I can't get rid or you, I wouldn't even try. That sand just proves that no matter what, no matter where, you are connected now to me. That's the promise that the ocean made, the promise that the beach gave me, the promise that the stars and moon witnessed, the promise Daisy made me get. That every time I see a grain of sand, every time I touch a grain of sand, I'm seeing you, I'm touching you, and it works both ways, see!" I stepped on the mat and shook myself like Daisy might and sure enough the sand upon the page increased. "That sand is me in you! We are both just sand in the other's life, together forever, no matter if we can touch or see, no matter if you are here or there. The moon told me so. The beach made us part of itself and one another. The ocean absorbed your tears to make it so."


He launched himself into my arms and hugged me near to death, while laughing and crying and giggling and wiggling his joy. Daisy came and stood at our feet upon the mat and bouncing, woofing, trying to get into our embrace, she added her sand to the mix.


I knelt and pulled her into our hug saying, "Yes, you too girl. You too!"




Another group of Groms can be found at www.81x.com/nicholas6996/beach


Since the first Grom story was posted there have been over 5,000 hits to the main page and 3,500 to the second galleries. Now an amazing 2,000 hits to the new Groms.


Namaste