(C)Tooluser September 2010
This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real people or places is entirely coincidental.Comments, feedback and constructive criticism welcomed. Flames ignored.
Hope you like it,
It was hot. One of those days where the sun's so strong you think you can hear the cement sidewalks sizzlin' and wherever you go you can taste dust on your tongue. I was clumping around the empty rooms of our new home and feeling pretty stupid. I'd just expected they'd come with all furniture built in, like with a trailer, you know? When you're eleven you make them kind of stupid mistakes.
I guess I was missing the trailer park. Mom and Pop had gotten all excited about owning a house instead of a trailer home - some smart deal where we paid money to the bank instead of a site manager, but we only had to do it for like a couple months, then we could live on here for a time for free before we had to give it back. My Pop's real clever about that stuff. He was out right now, fixing up with furniture people who would let us have stuff for a whole year before we had to pay a dime. I asked Pop how come we were gonna start the payin' after we give the place back to the bank, and he yelled to just shut my goddamn' stupid yap.
Now usually when Pop starts to yellin' my littlest big brother Red'll step in, but I'd forgot he'd had to go upstate. First time, see, not like Duke or Harley who go in so often I've kind of gotten used to them bein' away. So Pop knocked me into next week, and Raylene laughed out a cloud of blue cigarette smoke from where she was sprawled on that ratty old canvas lounger and said: "If'n your mind ain't quick, your feet've gotta be, li'l brat," which is true enough, and held out a glass for me to go get her another Seven 'n' Seven, like she was Mom, not my fat whale of a sister. She's gotten real mean since gettin' knocked-up.
Pop told Raylene to go easy on account of needing the welfare, and she told him to fuck off. Gotten real mouthy since Pop can't pound on her no more. I snuck out while they were yellin' so I could go look at my favorite room again.
Everything was all shiny and clean - well, ceptin' where someone had stubbed out cigarettes on the basin. It was so cool that you could have a shower like whenever you wanted just for free - you didn't have to stick a dime in, or nothin'. I scooped up the gross, lipsticky cigarette butt and the ash and threw 'em out in the hallway, and then I spit on the ashy stain, and rubbed it with my finger 'til it was gone. I wanted to turn the big taps - they had handles on made of like real diamonds - but I knew if anyone heard the water they'd tell me to quit foolin' around before I broke somethin'. So I just took a look around and flushed so that the pot was clean too, and then I went down to our yard.
Mom was sprawled out on our other sun-bed, snorin' fit to bust the windows, like usual. She'd gone a real nasty red, and I took note to stay out of arms reach when she woke up. Not that that would be for a while - her pint bottle was empty, and she'd knocked over her cola-cup into the ashtray which was a gross, slushy gray mess. So I ignored her and went over to my knothole.
It was already my favorite thing - like a little window into some real nice place like Heaven. The grass was all bright green, and there was a pool - a real pretty blue with no garbage floatin' or nothin'. Even the little trees was cut into like, pretty shapes and flowers all everywhere, like the people there'd boosted 'em from the park. Even the paved part of the yard was cool - all red bricks laid in pretty patterns and a lounger, only made of real wood, and one of those little tables with an umbrella up through the middle of it to keep your booze cold.
I could feel the sun heatin' up on my shoulders. I don't need to worry 'bout that - I tan real easy, and right then I was at that nice golden stage, you know? Where sun don't make you tan no more, but just kind of glow? Mom says I'm her li'l white nigger I tan up so fast, and Pop says yeah, blond hair on a nigger's no way to tell, but them chocolate brown eyes is a dead giveaway every time. And sometimes they fall to talkin' about who my other daddy is - mom used to work the truck stop, so it's a pretty wide cast. I don't know, so I just keep kinda lookin'. Any guy with wavy blond hair gets a second look, an' I try to get 'em to smile to see if they got a dimple like me. Momma said one time I was fixin' to follow her into business, but Pop belted her so hard she had to stop workin' for like, a whole week. Pop don't raise no fags.
Well, I just stared and stared at that pool, standing there with my eye against that knot-hole, and that water just kept gettin' bluer and more invitin' the more I looked.
The fence was taller than my head, but that don't matter - I like climbin' and Pop says it's gonna be real useful later, so he don't mind. The rails was on our side, so it was easy. Only I wasn't counting on there bein' little flowers close by, right up against the fence. I was real sorry and bent 'em back best I could, but I felt real bad like I'd broken a little bit of the whole place, which now was less pretty, all on account of me.
So when I looked down at the pretty blue water, and then at my grungy old shorts, I just couldn't do it - I couldn't spoil the water too, and make it dirty. So I stripped 'em off - and darn! Could I find a place to put 'em where they didn't just look like dumped garbage? In the end I hid 'em under this wooden sun bed, it was the best I could do.
Man! It was nice to stand there feelin' the sun just like kissin' me all over. When I were a real little kid, Pop had to whale me and whale me until I'd keep just shorts on. He don't care I got no hair south of my eyelashes, 'cept a tuft over my dick: says it ain't decent. Thing I hated most about the trailer park was just no chance to strip down like this without gettin' caught. I guess that's how come I got to lovin' showerin' and bein' clean - just standin' there bare with water on me, rubbin' all my smooth skin was like to a bit of heaven I could access anytime I could scare up a dime.
As I stood there on the side of the pool, it was like my whole skin was tingling, and the thought of the water slidin' over my bare, smooth body had already made me pop a stiffie - all those strokin' showers, I guess. I just plumb forgot about bein' careful, or gettin' caught and slipped into that cool water easy as a whore takin' dick.
I could just swim forever. The whole world just goes away into this cool blue place, and if you got knocks or bumps the water like soaks all the ache out. Sometimes I do a belly-flop - bang! - just to feel the water soakin' away the hurt. Man, that was like my favorite boost - one of the guys on the gate at the Municipal Pool would let me in for free, for a nice smile and he'd chat to me poolside. I liked playin' boner bingo with him - you know, where you see how many "looks" you have to give 'em before they pop wood? I had it down to three - sometimes four. I kind of got the feelin' there was more to it, like kind of a next stage? But I didn't know how to get there, and maybe he didn't neither. Anyway, he got to askin' how come I got so many marks on me like kind of always? and I darn sure knew how to get to the next stage of that. Pop just goes real ballistic if we get the Snoopers come round, even though Mom's like a liar in a fire - can make guys believe 'most anything, 'cept for Pop. I sure wished it worked on him too.
Anyhow, I just kind of zoned out, strokin' up and down in that blue-blue heaven, just breathin', slidin' through the water like a fish; sometimes makin' a ripple just so I could hear it, the strokes and the turns regular as a heartbeat. After a while I got this feeling somethin' had changed, but I was dopey with the rhythm and it wasn't 'til I stopped to massage a muscle ache that I saw him.
He was like this huge statue they got in Europe somewhere, oh, lonnng time ago. I seen it in this book in class - big as a house and built right by this old harbor, so big that ships could see it and know where to go for the night. It didn't do nothin' - they built it just to be pretty. Colossus - that was it. Don't remember nothin' else about that class, only that one beautiful thing. This guy was like that: gold in the sun, standing there with at the pool-edge, his legs just a bit apart like a ship was gonna sail between 'em.
I sure wished he weren't wearin' that loud shirt, or any shirt, come to that, but he was wearin' short cargo pants and his calves were built real solid, with these shining golden hairs on 'em. Not like he lived his whole life in the gym, but he used his body, I could tell that.
"So," he said, extending his hand as he bent down to where I was treading water. "Who's this little angel dropped into my pool?"
I must've grabbed his hand, because the next thing I remember was being lifted out of the water. Maybe he had hold of the step rails, steadying himself; I don't fucking know: it felt like I was floated up in sparkly lights, like in Star Trek. All that sunshine bouncing off the pool, maybe.
And then I was staring at that fuckin' awful aloha shirt and scared shitless he wouldn't still be smilin' when I looked up.
He had a dimple - I'd kind of known he would, somehow. His eyes were blue as his pool, and it didn't matter that it meant he wasn't my real daddy - my body knew stuff - it was tellin' me like a wierdo bangin' on the other side of glass when you just can't help but stop and stare and try to guess what hopeless crazy shit's goin' on in the fucked-up world inside their heads.
I really, really wanted to look away, like you do from that wierdo. His hand was warm, all around mine, where he was holding my wrist.
I forced air out into a "Hi," - the weakest, lamest little whine you ever heard, and his smile got bigger.
"Hi yourself," he said, and put his hand on my shoulder. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, I stepped closer and pressed my wet self up against him.
"Hey!" he said, sounding surprised - well, who wouldn't? But his big, warm hand slid down my back. It felt like he could easily reach down to my ass, but he didn't, just let it rest on the small of my back. All of his body was hard against my front - and I do mean all of it. I'd scored a perfect zero for boner bingo.
I was real scared - I knew, just knew that if I didn't learn crazy
weirdo sign language damn' fast, I was gonna mess this all the way up.
After a while, he unwound himself and led me across to the wooden lounger, holding just my fingertips. I felt like a little puppy - I'd follow him just anywhere; do anything he said.
He crouched down in front of me, and it was like my eyes were stuck or somethin': as he was movin' down so where I was lookin' moved from like, his crotch up to his face.
"Who are you, angel?" he asked.
Weird. I didn't know if I should say: "Me," or "how come you already know it?"
It was Pop called me Angel - when I was real small: before he went away upstate - something about him gettin' money for pretend kids. He came back real mean: like a different person. He never bashed me before, or called me Angel, after.
"Why're you crying?" he asked. It was news to me I was.
I shrugged, managed some kind of half-ass smile. "Dunno." It didn't seem smart to say I was the kind of lame-brain who cried when he was happy.
"You want a drink? Juice? Water?"
Suddenly it was like I had this desert strip all the way from my mouth to my asshole. I nodded, dumb as a fish.
"Okay." He stood up, moved away, and it was like I had this invisible fuckin' leash on me. I just stood up and padded after him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I padded over sun warmed brick, into the white-black-white of the kitchen. It felt nice - everything built-in, like a trailer, only a real classy one. There was this counter with all tall stools, and those little bright lights in the ceiling, just like a bar! My skin tingled all over from the sun, glowing, with that furnace heat you get after a long sun session. His fridge was an egg of brushed aluminum, and I just loved the way the cool air rushed down over me as he opened it.
He offered me a small, plastic sports bottle of water, and I took it with both hands. I really, really wanted to grab ahold of his hand and kiss it, like it was one of those deals where rich guys get the keys to the city and stuff.
The water was a cool shock down my throat; I gulped and gulped, milking that bottle with my lips and tongue; draining it, hearing the plastic crinkle-crinkle as I sucked at it, wondering why it was so important.
"Holy fuck!" I heard him murmur. "Water-bottle boy porn!"
I let go the bottle and smiled up at him as it popped back into shape in my hand, wishin' I could get a handle on what he meant. "I'm still thirsty," I said, happy that I wanted to do something that pleased him.
"Sure, Angel," he said, and pulled open that funky fridge to offer me another bottle.
I smiled up at him as I took it, trying a "Look" to see if it did anything, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the front of his wet shorts jerk.
"Oh, man!" he groaned. "You are just so cute!"
I gulped more water, trying different things. He liked it when I nursed at it, and when I sort of slid the bottle end in and out of my lips, he really liked it a whole lot, I could tell.
The bottle felt big and cold in my hand, and his thing had gotten really big; I could see it, standing up at kind of the diagonal, because his shorts were all wet and sticking to it. I wondered if there was a polite way of asking him to take them off.
"I'm all bare," I offered, hoping he'd take the hint.
"Yeah, I noticed," he said, in a kind of breathy growl that made me tingle. Not that all over sun-tingle, a different one in my dickie I got when I was strokin' myself in the shower.
"It's nice being bare." I tried again. "It means you can touch anywhere." Well, that got me a dick-twitch, but no nearer what I wanted. Talking, it seemed, was overrated.
My heart pounding in my ears, I handed him back the bottle, and while he had one hand occupied, I reached out my free hand and gently held his dick.
"Jeezus!" He jerked his hips back, and I looked up, real scared I'd messed up and made him say a wicked word.
"Sorry!" I said. "Only I thought you'd like it. I won't do it if you don't like it."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked.
I didn't have a clue, so I didn't answer that. "I don't like wearing wet things - they're cold and icky." I said, instead.
"You want me to take 'em off?"
At last! I looked up, nodding real hard, and saw where he was lookin'. I'd somehow missed that I was playin' with my stiffie. "Oh. Sorry." I could feel my face gettin' hot. "It's just it feels nice."
"Would you-" he began. It seemed weird to have him hesitating, like he was scared or something. "Would you, uh, like me to do that?"
Does a happy dickie point up? Sure I'd love to watch him stroking himself! If I'd nodded any harder I'd have hurt my neck.
"Okay then," he said, and he sounded happier, more relaxed. "Let's get comfortable, huh?" He unbuttoned that horrible shirt, and I was real glad to see that I'd been right - his chest was all muscly: two nice-looking cushions that I wanted to put my cheek against. He had just a light little sprinkle of golden fur, and his tummy was ridged, like mine.
"You go swimming," I said.
He pulled a face. "Not as much as I should." He sounded nervous again. He gripped the band of his cargo shorts and pushed them down. His cock bounced into view.
I guessed I could easily wrap both my hands around it, and was itching - or rather, tingling - to try. It curved slightly upwards, like a banana, only it had squiggly veins down the side. The shiny head of it was much bigger than mine and colored a dark purple.
He hadn't seemed to like it when I touched his dickie before, so I just stepped forward and put my arms up, around his waist. He kinda jumped, but I held on tight, rubbing my cheek against his little bit of tummy-fur and feeling his hot dickie against my chest and shoulder.
I tried to think what Mom would say, but I didn't want this to be "a quickie," more kind of a "longie": like forever if I had my wish! I smiled up at him real wide, and he blinked down at me. I could just look at his blue eyes forever, but I was tryin' real hard to think about what Mom would say. Then I had it: Mom said it to all her customers.
"You're real big," I said - like every guy wasn't real tall to me. His dick jumped against my neck, all hard and warm, and I giggled. "I know a game with dickies," I added. Duke had showed me, last time he'd come out the pen. I hadn't liked it much, 'cept it put Duke in a good mood, and I figured if I put this guy in a good mood, maybe he'd be nice and let me hang out with him or somethin'. "You want to play?" I tried not to sound too hopeful.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah?" he said.
I knew he was askin' about the game, but I thought I better play dumb. So I just bent my knees, kind of, and kissed the tip of his dickie.
He jumped like a foot in the air, saying "Jeezus! Where'd you learn that?"
Well, Duke told me if I ever squealed on him, he'd cut me real good. Seemed like it was even worser than his dealin', so I didn't say.
"It's real nice," I said, instead. "I like it a whole lot." Duke taught me to say that, and other stuff - it made him kinda crazy. Only I didn't like sayin' the wicked words - you know, the ones where you get your mouth washed out with soap after.
"Yeah?" He kind of smiled, so I moved in close and grabbed that nice big sausage again, and he let me. I didn't know what else to do, so I tried "The Look" up at him, like for boner bingo, and - I swear! - he groaned.
This time I didn't mess about with no kissy stuff; I just opened wide and took his big smooth-shiny helmet into my mouth. He smelled nice, and his dick kind of tasted like he smelled. I could feel his hard veins against my lips, and the hard bumps of the underside of his helmet felt real nice against my tongue. I slurped on him a bit, up and down.
"Oh, yes, baby!" he said, and he stroked my shoulders! Like he really liked me and wanted me to cuddle closer - so I did. I could only get maybe like a third of his dick in my mouth, so I started rubbing the rest, wiping my dribble over it the way Duke likes, and playing with his nice furry balls.
He didn't seem to know about putting his hand on my head and pushing though - I got kind of scared I weren't doing it right, and tried extra hard on my own: sliding my mouth right up and down as far as I could.
He bent his knees, pullin' down right out of my mouth and staggered back against that barroom counter thing. His dick was kinda twitchin' and I knew he was gonna nut, so I ran across and got my mouth on it again real quick, only this time it was on account of wanting to feel it spurtin', not 'cos of havin' to lick it off of the floor, otherwise.
He kind of half hitched his ass onto one of those stools, and finally worked out about puttin' his hand on my head. I took a deep breath, an' he pushed in deep, all nice an' growly, so I tried that swallowin' trick, and managed like half-way down his big dick, I reckon. My mouth was stretched real wide around him, an' it was SO nice feelin' him all hard and twitchin' and veiny-big humpin' my mouth.
I did more swallowin' and his humpin' got faster and he was sayin' stuff; but soon I felt that BIG twitch - you know? - and I pushed back up, already feelin' the taste in the back of my mouth. Then I got a real gush: creamy and a bit salty, and I pulled back more so I could feel it spurt out from his pee-lips with my tongue. I gulped some down, and let some trickle out of the side of my mouth: more than with Duke, because this guy was gaspin' an' humpin' and carryin' on and shootin' just loads. It was lovely havin' enough to swallow and feelin' it trickle all down my chin and my neck too - all lovely and warm.
When he done the last few gaspin' trickles I knew I'd gotta let his dickie out of my mouth, but I licked the stalk all up an' down to clean up for him.
It was scary lookin' up once I'd finished. He looked real tired, but happy-tired, you know? Made me wanna smile back, and then when I stood up he put his arm around me and did, like, hugging! It was so cool! With him sitting on the stool I came up as high as his shoulder, and I really wanted to lean in close, but I didn't want to get him messy and get belted, so I didn't.
"So what's your name, then, honey?" he said.
"Shayne," I said, kind of mumbling in case he thought it was dumb. But he smiled and squeezed my shoulder.
"Well, I'm Bill," he said, and I thought it was just the most perfect name ever! He scooped up some cum from off my chest, real gentle. He had the nicest smile. "So where did you drop in from, Shayne?"
"Uh, um -" I'd plumb forgotten I'd broke in and wasn't supposed to be here; it were like someone threw a bucket of cold water over me. "Um... next door," I said. I guess maybe he felt me tense up because he started strokin' my back, up and down, real gentle, like it mattered to him if I was scared, or somethin'.
"Hey, Shayne," he said, and he stroked down my back and gave my ass a squeeze that sent tingles right to my dickie! "It's okay." He smiled again, and leaned in, sorta - with his lips apart. I didn't know what he was gonna do - I felt all kinds of dumb when he kissed me! Right on my lips! Like he liked me.
I jerked back, tryin' to swallow this lump in my throat and feelin' like maybe I'm gonna cry, just like a baby.
He looked like he was gonna say somethin' only just then a horn sounded from outside and he got this real wide look on his face.
"Jeezus! Mary!" he said, standing up. "You gotta get out of here, angel! Come on!" He drug me out into the yard, gesturing for me to be quiet, just as a woman's voice called:
"Bill? - where are you?" I didn't like her already.
But then Bill lifted me, boosting me right up the fence and I scrambled over. I'd hardly got down the other side when I heard a big splash and guessed he'd jumped in the pool. I heard that woman's voice again, sharp and angry, but I didn't have time to stop and listen.
I'd just realised that my shorts were still over there,
wood lounger, and I was bare-ass naked and splattered with cum!
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