Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2000 09:34:50 EST From: VicHowel@aol.com Subject: Growing Up Sexual - Chapter XXXIX Growing Up Sexual Have you been following the presidential election in the US? A fortnight after everyone voted, there's still no president-elect. Bush has a 900 vote margin, but there are 1000's of contested ballots that may still be counted and millions of ballots being hand counted (depending on what the Florida Supreme Court decides, they may or may not decide who becomes the 43rd president). Everything is still up in the air. The worst nightmare is that the indecision will continue until the next Congress is sworn in and the partisan shit will really hit the fan then. I feel as unfinished/confused/up-in-the-air about Dave MacMillan Presents. More than two months ago now, application was made to a gay credit card processing company. A fortnight ago, their gay-friendly bank finally signed on - but, then, there was a third banking-related facility that had to decide to join in (understand that these banking operations carry a lot of those gay porn sites)- this one being the keeper of the cybergate that makes a credit card purchase secure. That company came on-board a week ago. Only ... You guessed it, there were glitches that have kept the site designer from making the final connexions. I understand the deal now is that the gatekeeper has to add some more links to accommodate my simple little business. My worst nightmare was that this thing would run on to Thanksgiving. Well, guess what? Maybe before X-mas????? Stay tuned. The site's URL is http://www.macmillanbooks.com. Long, long ago - around chapter 16 of this series - I said most bluntly that I would not put a minority character into a sexual situation that could leave him hanging from an old oak tree. I still haven't decided that I'm going to back down from that; but I have to admit that things seem to be going that way as Growing Up Sexual continues to wind down. Stay tuned... &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Chapter 39 Billy and I lagged behind the herd of other 9th graders stampeding towards the door, Richard and Clem among them. We were keeping an eye on them - Billy's brother and cousin, I mean. The high school was only a 10 minute walk over to the Stokes' house, but we wanted to make sure that Richard was actually going with Clem like Billy thought he'd been doing every day for the past month. Mrs. Stokes pulled the big Lincoln almost right up to the door. A cute boy I'd seen around but never knew hopped out of the front seat and got into the back. Clem headed right for the frontseat beside his mother while Richard seemed to slow down with each step he took towards the backseat. "Come on, slowpoke," the kid called to him. "Mom's got to get back to work." "Why don't they walk?" I asked Billy as the car pulled away and we pushed through the door. "That Clem needs the exercise. He's as big as a house!" "He's got asthma bad, Vic. He's not allowed to do anything strenuous." "Looks like his folks could teach him one exercise, though," I observed. "What's that?" "How to push away from the table after the first helping of everything," I deadpanned. Billy laughed. "Yeah, he could do with that exercise all right." "Lead on, Lee," I told him. "I understood that we have a hike ahead of us, and I don't know where we're going." We cut through the woods that bordered on the highway and moved fast. It still took us more than 20 minutes to reach the back of Billy's house. We crossed the highway there and dove back into woods there. "How much further?" I groaned, my shirt and jeans wet from sweat and hugging my body. "Next house up," he answered. "But we've got to go a little deeper into these pine trees so we can come up on the back without anybody seeing us." "Yeah," I mumbled, taking my glasses off and wiping sweat from my eyes and forehead. I told myself that I wouldn't be doing this for anybody else in the whole damned world. Richard Lee had better be plenty thankful if it turned out that we were saving him from some kind of Satanic cult or something. Him and Billy both. Billy especially, and it didn't matter if Richard had just decided somehow that he'd rather play with Clem than his brother. We came up on the side of the house that held the carport and kitchen. We both held back, using the trees to hide us and looked things over like green berets on a mission behind enemy lines. "No car," I said, stating the obvious. "Think they're even here?" "Their mom takes off work to pick them up from school," Billy said, eye-ing the length of the back of the house. "She drops them off and goes back to work." "How do you know?" "My mom's their mom's first cousin. They talk about how they do things and, sometimes, I listen." "Okay. So, where would they take him then? That is, if they're making him do something he doesn't want to do-?" "One of their rooms, I guess." "Pretty logical, Billy Lee," I told him. "There's hope for you yet. I'm proud of you." I looked down the brick side of the house. "Where's that?" Billy made a face and I figured he was trying to remember the lay-out of his cousins' house. "I think they're supposed to be down at the backside - all the way to the end where that sliding door is." His brows knitted as he remembered something else. "Yeah - last year, their mom was over at the house telling mom how they were redesigning the boys' rooms. Making it like a two bedroom apartment like. I think they put Clem in the back bedroom and knocked out some of the wall so they had a door between them. They've got a bathroom that they share too." "Why knock out the wall?" I asked, trying to imagined having a little brother. I couldn't imagine wanting to be so close to him that I couldn't go out into the hall and knock on his door. I wouldn't want some little kid just walking into my room any time he wanted to. There was stuff in my room that not even mom or Mrs. Yokum dared to touch. I'd kill some little kid who went through my stuff - even if he was my brother. "I sorta get the impression that Cary wanted it and Clem went along with it. From what I hear, that Cary is one spoiled brat. He's even got Clem cowed - and Clem gets everything he wants because he's got asthma." "So," I said as I stood up, "let's go see what we're going to see." I started making my way through the underbrush, lining myself up with the sliding door on the other side of the house. "Don't make so much noise!" Billy hissed after me. "They'll hear us coming!" I slowed down and started to be more careful about where I was putting my feet. He caught up to me. "We're going to have to cross the yard," I told him. "That means that we're going to be out in the open." Billy studied the whole backyard, a frown on his face. He nodded with a jerk of his head. "Come on," he whispered. "But be real careful. Don't make any noise." He pulled his bookbag off and set it on the ground. I did the same. A twig snapped as his foot landed on the ground beyond the trees. "Right, no noise," I said. "We want to catch them by surprise." He stared daggers at me as I came up even with him. Billy leaned over and started running zigzag towards the edge of the house farthest from the carport, like the marines hitting the beach at Inchon. I realized that my buddy had been watching way too many John Wayne war movies. Rolling my eyes, I scrunched over at the waist and started through the yard after him. We leaned back against the brick wall and caught our breath. We heard voices coming from the open sliding door, but they were low enough that we couldn't understand anything that was being said. Billy looked at me with a See, I Told You So kind of look. I nodded. "What now?" I mouthed. "Let's get closer and see what we can hear." He looked down the length of the house. "And what we can see." Pressing against the wall, we made our way past one window and up to the sliding door. It was open but the screen door was closed and the curtain was drawn. Billy went low and duck walked to the other side of the opening. Both of us pressed our faces against the bricks and listened. "Feels good, doesn't it, Cuz?" Cary asked, pressing his pubes hard against the walls of Richard's crack and pushing his lips further onto Clem's shaft. Richard moaned, his nose pushed into Clem's soft fat belly. On the sheet tacked on the wall, Richard was taking that big one that always had Cary wanting to pull it out and beat off. He wished he was as big down there. He wished he could have been there when his cousin was getting his butt stuffed by all that dick. But Richard Lee was his now. Cary began to pull his meat out of his cousin's hole. He had the best looking boy in Soul. He pushed back into Richard. His cousin was his. Cary Stokes could fuck him any time he wanted to. He could feel his naked body under his any time he wanted it. And Richard wanted it too - just like he had when he was making the movie with those other boys. Cary could feel him tightening up under him. It wouldn't be long before his older cousin shot his load - with Cary fucking him. His dick's movement in the butthole beneath him speeded up. He wondered what Richard was feeling now. He understood the older boy was getting ready to shoot. But what was it about a dick in your butt that got you to that point? Cary pushed the thought away almost as fast it came upon him. Who was he going to find out with? Clem? That was a laugh. He controlled his brother. He always had. But it had taken on a whole new meaning when Clem sucked him off the first time. And Clem turned over and stuck his fat butt up fast enough every night. But letting the older boy have some of him? He didn't think so. If nothing else, Clem would have shit on him then. It'd loosen his control over him. Richard? That was a laugh too. Richard might like getting butt fucked but the only reason he bent over for Cary every day was because he knew what would happen if he didn't. Cary Stokes controlled Richard Lee - just like he controlled Clem. And his dick sure did prefer Richard to Clem. Richard was nice all over. Clem was fat. He wasn't about to lose that control. There was a gap in the curtain near the bottom of the sill, maybe a tear - I wasn't sure. I got down on my hands and knees and pressed my face up against the screen. It was dark inside. Except on the wall. There was flickering light there. I concentrated and started to make out images. Jesus shit! They were watching that movie we'd made two Thanksgivings ago. Richard was down on all fours with one of the boys from Atlanta plowing his butt. I stared at the flickering images of a movie I'd spent the better part of three years trying to forget. I was caught up in it. Memories washed over me. Howard turning the three of us over to that asshole preacher. Us getting fucked all over that farm house. The feel of Richard's butt on my dick while I fucked him. Billy's hand on my shoulder pulled me back from that past. "Let me see," he whispered and I crawled back a couple of paces so that he could see through the gap in the curtain. He was faster on the uptake than I'd been. It didn't seem like anytime at all before he raised up on his knees and looked at me closely. Finally, he jerked his head back to the woods and pushed himself to his feet. Numb, I followed suit and the two of us ran back into the trees. "Did you see that?" he demanded angrily when we were both again in the trees and brush that hid us from the house. "Clem's got that movie we were in - the one with us doing all that sex. He's running it in there." He stared at me, his mouth opened. "You're shitting me!" he finally managed but didn't sound like he believed it. "That's what they were watching in there." "Did you see what they were doing?" I shook my head slowly, admitting that I'd lost all thought of Richard and why we'd followed him to his cousins' house. "Cary was fucking him. He was fucking my brother." "Cary?" "Clem's little brother. He was fucking him in the ass. And Richard was slurping on Clem's pole." "Clem's?" I yelped. "That boy's so fat, nobody could find his dick." "It didn't look all that big, but he was lying down while Richard looked like he was bobbing for apples on him." "And this little kid sticking it to him?" "Yeah. We've got to do something." "Maybe Richard likes it, Billy. You and I like dick; there ain't no reason why your brother wouldn't." "Cary's cute but I'm not going to believe that my brother would ever go down on Clem - not willingly." "He-" "Vic, my brother does the sticking. He always has - except when we were made to make that movie." He frowned. "Besides, Richard is about the best looking boy in Soul. And he's got one of the nicest dicks in town too. He knows it too. Kids - girls and boys - have fallen all over the kid since we even thought of what thing between our legs could do. He doesn't have fat friends. And I'll bet my life on him never letting a fat boy in his mouth or butt." I had to agree with Billy about his brother. A part of me still wanted Richard in me every time I saw him. "So, what're we going to do to save my brother then?" he asked. "Let's go back to your house, Billy," I told him. "I think I've got an idea of where to get some help-" "Oh shit!" he groaned. "You're talking about more people knowing about this?" I didn't answer. "Oh, Jesus!" "How about the Weeks twins?" I asked and picked up my bookbag. "What about them?" "I think they can help us with this-" He studied me closely. "Talk to me, Vic Howell," he said. "Let's get over to your house. I'll tell you about it on the way." By the time that we'd crossed the road and were inside Billy's house, I'd filled him in on the major portions of my sex life that he hadn't known about. His jaw was dragging by the time we got inside. "You and the Bennett boys?" he asked as we reached the kitchen. I nodded. "And Joe Phillips too?" We stood beside the table. Again, I nodded. "Jesus Fucking Christ!" I blushed. Billy Lee was acting like I was as big a slut as Glenda Faye Woods. "It really wasn't that many," I mumbled. "Yeah, right! Only four guys ever got to pork me." "You're forgetting about that movie. And you've had Richard every night - until here recently. Some of us don't have sexy brothers to help us out, Billy." "So, when Joe started pushing Lindy Bennett closer and closer to letting people know, Clyde Lee did something to make him stop?" I nodded, remembering that I'd lost Broughton for a lover out of that deal too. "And after Ronnie Varnadore started spreading it around about you, Clyde did something again?" Again I nodded. "Why didn't I ever get invited out to his place?" he groaned "Me and Richard?" "You guys were pretty low-key and wanted to keep it that way. That's why I didn't invite you. And nobody else in Soul knew about you." "Jesus!" He rolled his eyes. "All the dick I've missed out on! Thanks, Vic." "I thought this discussion was going to be about how to save Richard - not how many dicks I may have seen." "I agree we need to talk to Clyde all right. What are you thinking? You mentioned Henry and Jimmy-?" "They seem to be in on most anything Clyde does with guys locally. They're real cool about this shit. They keep their mouths shut about what guys are doing it. And they're real popular at school. Besides, Clyde's going to need some help." "Why can't we help Clyde?" "We can. We will. But Henry and Jimmy have a car. And, if Clem is normal at all, he'd blow a load just to have one of them talk to him. You've got to be suspect to both of the Stokeses." "If they've got that damned movie, we're both suspect to them. They've seen us bare-assed and riding dicks just like they have Richard. We're sitting ducks waiting for one or both of them to get tired of him and want some strange nooky." I hadn't thought it out that far. I blanched as I tried to picture Clem getting behind me, the tip of his dick trailing its slime over my fanny. He wouldn't even be able to see to put it in because of his gut. I shuddered. "Let's call Henry and Jimmy," I suggested. "Get them to drive us out to Clyde. We can put our heads together at the same time." "Yeah. At least, they're all our kind of people." He frowned. "Except that Julian Head. Do you think we can keep him out of it?" "From what I've heard from the Weeks boys, he and Clyde are pretty tight. He even lives with Clyde. I sorta suspect they share the same bed." Billy Lee knew more about my sexual history than anybody in Soul, but I wasn't going to fill him on every single detail. "Jesus!" he hissed. "I guess ... If Clyde vouches for him, it ought to be all right." He walked over to the door to the living room and the telephone on the wall there. I was surprised to watch him dial the Weeks home without looking it up. I suspected that my good buddy might have been seeing one or both of the twins when I wasn't around. * * * Joe Phillips had walked past the open door of his father's office before he realized that there was something wrong about what he'd just seen in there. He stopped. Not wrong exactly, he told himself. Just strange. Different. He walked back to the office and looked in to see his father sitting at his desk talking to the black man sitting there facing him. He waved and watched as both men turned to face him. It felt - strange - to have a black man in his house. Sitting there and talking to the pastor of the First Baptist Church, just like a white man would do. It even felt - stranger - for Dr. Phillips to introduce the black man to him as Mr. Howe. It wasn't until he was in the kitchen, making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that he started trying to put his finger on the strangeness that he'd felt when he found the man in his house. Black people stayed to themselves, just as white people did. It had always been that way, ever since he could remember. Charlie Howe was the only person who'd ever broken through the ways things were and started them going into new and unknown directions. But that was only at school. That wasn't at the parsonage. It wasn't where Joe Phillips lived. He poured himself a glass of milk and sat at the table. His father had supported Charlie's admission to the white school. It had been the Christian thing to do. And the church had understood. Less than ten families had left because of the stand that Dr. Phillips had taken. But that acceptance had been about blacks going to the white school. Joe could see where having blacks coming into a white man's house or going to his church got a lot closer to home than the school did. He could imagine a lot more than ten families getting riled up by that. The whole town could. He sure hoped his dad wasn't about to invite black people to First Baptist. It wouldn't serve any useful purpose that he could see. And it'd label his dad as a nigger lover. Joe'd have to face all those kids in school. Just like Charlie Howe had. Only, he'd be a nigger lover. He shivered as he tried to imagine what it would be like to feel that alone - that separated from everybody. That had to be as bad as people knowing he was a queer. He'd managed to stop wanting dick after Vic's mom found them in bed together with Vic's pole shoved up his ass. At least, he'd stopped letting it happen. He and Vic were still friends - at school only. He wasn't about to put himself in the way of something happening again. But there was no way he could stop people from thinking that he was a nigger lover if black folks started coming to First Baptist. His dad might see that as Christian, but kids at school weren't about to be as forgiving or loving. They'd beat the shit out of him. He wondered how Charlie had survived those first couple of months of 9th grade as he chugged his milk, his sandwich forgotten. Charlie? God! His last name was Howe. Could the black man in the study with his dad be Charlie's daddy? Sweet Jesus!!! If Charlie started coming to First Baptist, Joe'd have be friendly and show him around. He was already friendly with Charlie at school. He couldn't hide from the dirt farmers and white trash at school by saying his father was wrong. Could he? It'd mean that he'd have to a complete about-face and start putting Charlie down in front of all the kids. That sure didn't feel right - not even thinking about it. And, if he did try to do that, it'd get back to his father. Either way he was up shit creek without a paddle. He looked up and saw his father standing in the door, watching him. "What's up, Dad?" he managed to ask. Dr. Phillips smiled. "These are wondrous times, Joe." Joe Phillips felt his heart sink down to his feet. When his dad started talking that way, the shit was always about ready to hit the fan. "Oh?" he gulped.