Date: Thu, 03 Aug 2000 08:24:17 GMT
From: Ascyltus
Subject: JAKE AND CHAY: A TRAGEDY IN ONE ACT - Teen/Boy

Chay and Jake: A Tragedy in One Act

By Ascyltus

Teen / Boy

I have been chatting with some friends on MIRC and promised to write up an
experience that happened to me when I was 16 years old.  This is somewhat of
a confession - these events did occur - although I have changed the names of
the protagonists and added a few fictional elements to keep it interesting.

This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between minors.  If
this is not something you think you would enjoy reading, then DON'T.  Duh,
it is that simple.  Also this is not for the eyes of any law enforcement
officials - to them I say this:   I am not the same person I was when I was
16.  No one was seriously hurt (although my heart was broken).  Sue to the
slrnder age difference, where I live the act was legal at the time it
happened.  You have to decide where the random fiction is - there's enough
to make it inadmissable.  And finally I do not in any way shape or form
condone the use of minors for sexual acts:  I believe that men and boys can
form strong, loving relationships that are beneficial to both parties.
Physical contact can be an important part of that relationship; however I
think the meddling of law enforcement agencies does far more to hurt
children in this type of case than any acts themselves.  I would refer you
to Brongersma, Edward, Loving boys Vol. 1 to get your facts and statistics
straight.

On with the story:

When I was younger I went to high school in England.  My Dad, who was
English, died when I was 10, so my summers were spent at my Grandmother's
house in my Mother's home town of Clarkville, Indiana, which is mostly a
farming community.   About the only thing famous about Clarkville is the
annual Hayfest in the fall, and it is the home town of the Stapletons -
that's right, the famous family of Hollywood stars. The one redeeming
feature of Clarkville is its huge municapal swimming pool where I was
working as a lifeguard teaching beginner 2 swimming, and just guarding the
kids.  Not that I ever had to do anything.  Shifts were a half an hour long.
  We'd go from low tower, to walk, to high tower, to window, to cleaning to
break then start all over again.  We'd yell "No RUNNING" about a gazillion
times a day, but never really had to save anyone's life.
The real bonus of working at the pool is that a rural community swimming
pool is absolutely the best place in a small town to find a bunch of near
naked kids, in their element, having fun.  And I love kids, especially boys,
and especially near naked ones.
I was popular.  I was young enough to be liked by the kids as I spoke their
language, yet old enough to be responsible for them.  I'd just got my
driver's license, too, and would give kids rides home when they needed it.
One kid especially caught my attention.  Although we weren't supposed to
play favorites, it was hard for me not to with Jake.  He was around 11 years
old, I figured, about 4'11 and perfectly proportioned.  He had blonde hair
cut in a fade with short bangs, piercing blue eyes, an impish grin which
showed off his gleaming white teeth, and a propensity for laughter.  The one
flaw on his otherwise perfect visage was a small chip off of his right front
tooth.  Too small to be noticeable unless you looked up close.
On break one afternoon I got talking to Jake.  He'd been benched by Joe, the
head lifeguard, for spitting, or profanity, or some other such thing.  I've
always found that kids open up to you more when you listen than when you
talk.  So here I was being a good ear eating my chicken salad sandwich.  The
more I learned about Jake, the more my heart went out to him.
Jake came from a poor family.  Heck a lot of the kids did - that's why they
were at the pool - cheap babysitting.  But Jake's Ma was a drunk, and didn't
really give a shit about the poor kid.  He had no idea who his father was,
had no siblings, and lived in a ratty apartment on the wrong side of town.
I got to know most of this from talking with him.  I found out about the
apartment because he needed a ride home.  It was nearly time for me to punch
out anyway, so I told him, if he'd stick around long enough for me to clean
the bathroom, I'd give him a ride.  Heck, he even offered to help - and he
cleaned the sinks while I swabbed the floors and sprayed  muriatic acid into
the urinals.
10 minutes later we were on our way to the wrong side of town.  He was
wearing a dirty gray muscle shirt with the Chicago Bulls logo, and a pair of
faded cutoff blue shorts over a pair of cheap no name brand sneakers.  I
always wore sunglasses ostensibly to shield myself from the brutal rays of
the sun, but really so that people couldn't see my eyes as I snuck a peek at
various crotches.  I was doing that now, checking Jake over, wondering what
it would be like to slowly remove those tight blue shorts, to reveal what
was underneath.  In my mind we were parked out in the woods somewhere,
laying on a blanket, and I was slowly unzipping his fly, reaching in, and
"Oh shit!"  Some lady stepped out from between two cars right in front of me
and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting her.  The sudden stop
precipitated Jake into the windshield with a resounding thump (he wasn't
wearing his seatbelt) and put a nasty crack in it.  The lady looked at me
stupidly, then resumed her slow amble across the road miles from any
crosswalk.  Instead of being upset, Jake immediately burst into peals of
laughter, and he was still laughing and rubbing his head when we got to his
house a coupla' blocks later.
His Ma was home when I dropped him off.  It was only about 4 in the
afternoon, but she was already drunk.  The apartment stank, there was a
stack of filthy dishes in the sink, and there was a slew of empty beer cans
littering most available surfaces.  Jake said "Ma, this is Chay.  He's a
guard at the pool.  I'm just gonna' show him my room."
"Nice to meet you, er whadya' say your name was?"
"Chay".
"Nice to meetcha, Chay."  She extended a dirty hand which I shook gingerly.
"You going out again, Jake?"
"Maybe, Whatever" Jake said, leading me to his dirty room.  His bed was a
mattress on the floor, his clothes were in a pile next to it.  They looked
like they hadn't been washed in a week.  To this day, I still don't know why
he showed me, except maybe as a cry for help.  I had to get home and told
him so.
"Watcha doing tomorrow?" He asked.
"I dunno.  It's my day off.  Maybe going to the lake.  Wanna come along?"
"What time?"
"I dunno - maybe around 10 or so. Do you have to ask your Ma?"
"Nah, she don't care.  Can you pick me up?"
"Here?"
"Sure - say 10 o'clock."
"Cool"
I said my good byes and let myself out.  I skipped to my car.  I tried to
hide it, but I'd made a date with a super-cute 11 year old and my heart was
fit to burst.  I was in love.  I just knew it was going to be a fun day.
That night I couldn't sleep for excitement, that is not until I'd worn
myself out thoroughly thinking about taking off Jake's tight blue shorts and
finally getting ahold of myself.

I was early the next day.  I rolled up to his ratty apartment around 10 to
10.  I sat in the car for a minute thinking I'd just wait.  I made up my
mind that I was too impatient to wait any longer, when Jake's Ma stumbled
out of the house, shouted something at Jake, then got into her ratty old
Ford and motored off, zigzagging down the street.  Heck, driving like that,
I was surprised she still had a license, much less a car.
I waited another minute as I didn't want to embarrass the poor kid, then
skipped up to the door and knocked.
"C'min"
I entered - it was unlocked.  Jake was in his room.  He was wearing a pair
of baggy swimming shorts and a faded blue T shirt.  He was  kicking his
laundry into a pile.
"What you doing?" I asked
"My ma said I had to take my shit down to the laundramat" he said.
"Looks like it's about time, too" I ribbed him.  He shot me a dirty look.
"Say, we have a washing machine.  Why don't you bring it over and we can
throw it in the wash, then we can go to the lake while the machine does all
the work?"
He lit up.  "You sure you don't mind?"
"Not a problem".
So he gathered up a bunch of his dirty clothes, threw them in a garbage bag,
and we set off to my house.  When he saw where I lived, a beautiful house,
on the right side of the tracks, about 6 blocks from his house, he was
amazed.  "You live here in the Stapleton house?"
"Yeah.  Although my last name is Chalidor, my Ma's maiden name is
Stapleton."
"Like as in the movie star Stapleton?"
"Clive Stapleton was my great uncle.  My grandfather bought this house from
him in the 50's"
"So are you a movie star, too?"  I wasn't sure if he was kidding me.
"I've been out to New York to be in a few commercials, when I was a kid, but
no, not any more."
"You're like famous" Now I really wasn't sure if he was kidding me, as he
was wearing that impish grin.
"Ah shaddup", I said.  "The laundry room is in the basement."
As we went into the house, My grandma called down, "Chay is that you?"
"Yes, Grandma."
"Who's that with you?" she queried.
"This is my friend Jake from the pool.  If it's OK I'm just going to throw
some of his laundry in, while we go out to the lake swimming."
"Why don't you bring him up so I can meet him"
"Do you mind?" I asked Jake
"Sure, whatever"  he shrugged.  We climbed the grand marble staircase and
went down the hall to my Grandmother's bedroom.  She was hunched over her
bureau typing a letter, her reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
She rose as we went in, although that didn't elevate her very much - she was
shorter than Jake, about 4'8", yet with the fortitude of an ox and the
temperament of a pit bull.  I loved My Grandma dearly, but I never fought
with her as she could stare down a raging rhino.  About once a year the
Clarkeville Sheriff would get a call from some out of towner to say that
there was a "Little blue car driving itself around town."  "Nah," the
dispatcher would say, "That's just Mrs. Stapleton."
"Let's take a look at you then, boy" she said.  "My, you're a handsome
thing, aren't you."  She gave me a glance, the content of which was not
entirely lost.  "What's your name?"
"Jake"
"And where are you from, Jake?"
"Right here in town, Ma'am, although I was born in Indianapolis"
She looked at me then.  "That's where your Mother is.  She said she'd be
back in time for supper."
"OK, Gran."  We got along fine.  She turned back to her letter.
"Will you be back for lunch?"
"I'll just make a couple of sandwiches and take them with me."
"You be sure to be back for supper. Your Mother's making something special,
and we have guests."
"Oh?  Who's coming?"
"I think your Mother's lawyer and his wife."
"OK, Gran."

We put the clothes in the dryer.  While we were down there, Jake noticed a
rusty old inner tube that was propped against the wall.  "Hey, where did you
get the inner tube?"  He asked
As a child I always had a tendency to anthropomorphise favorite objects,
giving them names and a character.  "That's Rusty" I said, "I think he has a
slow leak, but we can bring him along."
I made us a couple of cold cut sandwiches and grabbed a couple of cans of
root beer, threw them in a cooled, and set out for the lake.
We stopped at a gas station and while I put $5 into the tank of my old VW
rabbit, Jake filled Rusty with air, so full it looked fit to bust.  It was a
beautiful day, with a light breeze to beat the 100 degree heat.  There were
lots of people at the lake but mostly they were at the beach.  We went down
the railway tracks to my favorite rock - a platform jutting out over the
water about 4 feet above the surface, next to another rock about another 6
feet higher still.  There were only a couple of other local kids there,
around my age, although I didn't know them really well.
First I showed off my diving skill with a few well - executed somersaults,
backflips and gainers off the higher rock, then I threw rusty in the water
and me and Jake took turns trying to dive through the middle.  He looked
radiant standing on the rock, his wet shorts clinging to his gleaming skin.
His little nips were hard from the cool clear water and as he would clamber
out for the next dive he would get goosebumps.  I couldn't take my eyes off
him; those radiant blue eyes sought to drown me.  I was torn between
watching his bubble butt, gazing into his azure eyes, and stealing glances
at his crotch, especially when the wet fabric clung to it.  I knew he caught
me glancing there a few times as he'd give me a look, cock his head to one
side and squeal with laughter.  We splashed. We ate our sandwiches and drank
root beer.  We played.  We wrastled, and threw each other into the water.  I
knew I loved him.  The moment when I absolutely knew that he liked me too
came when I was floating lazily on Rusty the inner tube and he swam up and
tipped me off.  As I clung to the inner tube, he clung to me, his legs
wrapped around mine, his arms around my neck, his hot sweet breath in my
face.  I could feel his cock through his shorts on my thigh, and I fancied
that it grew a little as we clung there, with me playing the part of an
island and him clinging to me like a castaway, adrift on a limitless sea.
As darkness approached we packed up our things and headed for home, an end
to a perfect day.
As we were getting into the car Jake's shorts caught on the latch and tore a
great big hole in the butt.  "Nice butt", I said, as his whole left cheek
was exposed.
"Otay, Buttwheat", he said.  "Ahh shit, My Ma's gonna kill me for ruining my
shorts."  He wrapped a towel around his waist and we drove home.  I felt bad
for him.  "Maybe I have a pair of shorts at home you could borrow that would
fit you."
"Thanks.  She's still gonna kill me, though."
"She'll get over it".
We drove to my house in silence.  At home I found his clothes in a stack,
neatly folded.  Some had been ironed.  I wasn't sure if My grandma had done
it, my Ma, or the Maid, but someone had sure done me a favor.  In the
laundry room Jake picked out some underwear,  a pair of jeans and a
sweatshirt.  He shot me a glance and I busily pretended to fold laundry.  He
turned his back and took down his ripped shorts.  I ached for him, and
openly stared at his naked bubble butt.  As he pulled up his tighty whities
he caught me at it.  He pealed with laughter and said again, "Otay,
Buttwheat".  And then he turned, just ever so slightly, so that I caught a
glimpse of the tip of his hard little boycock as he tucked it into his
underpants.  He was watching me watch him, too, and he knew I liked what I
saw.  Perhaps something could have happened then, but I was too embarassed.
"I'd better get you home", I said.
Dinner was a stuffy formal affair.  Jack, my mother's lawyer, thinks he's
really funny and has a string of interminable stupid stories from his past
case files to racount.  The way he tells stories about his clients assures
me that I would never want to be one - I am sure that more than once during
dinner he crossed the attorney - client privilege barrier.  My Grandmother
brought up the fact that I had a new friend.  "What's his name?"  Jack
asked.
"Jake"
"Jake what?"
"I don't remember ... I met him down at the pool.  He's really funny - we
get along great.  Listen - this is really funny - he was getting into the
car and..."
"How old is he, Chay?"  My mother asked.
"I dunno, maybe 12 or so"
"Shouldn't you be hanging around with kids your own age?"  This from Jack's
wife or girlfriend or whatever she was.  Jack had been around the block a
few times....
"I kinda thought of it as a sort of big brother thing.  Like I was a mentor
or something... anyway he was"
"I'm curious", Jack said.  "What does he look like, this Jake?"
"Um blond hair, blue eyes, he's got a chipped front tooth..."
"His Mother's a drunk?  Lives over in Westwood apartments?"
I must have looked astonished, or nodded or something.  Jack pointed his
fork at me.  "This kid's bad news.  He's been caught shoplifting a few
times, and his family's a real bunch of losers.  No one knows who his Father
is - You're to stay away from him, understand?"
What a  downer.  How was the poor kid ever going to have a chance with
assholes like Jack around.  I made my case as best I could, but my Ma, Jack
and his wife/whatever all ganged up on me.  Only my Grandma took my side.
She said the kid deserved a chance and that I'd be good for him. She gave me
a conspiratorial wink.  But the Other Side was adamant and I ended up
excusing myself and leaving the table.

I had beginner 2 the next day.  As I watched the kids that afternoon I
longed for Jake to show up.  I kept glancing over my shoulder to see if he
was there, and kept looking at my watch.  I was restless and miserable.  It
stormed that afternoon - lightning, meaning the pool closed and I got to go
home early.  As I drove glumly back to my mansion in the downpour, watching
the rain get caught in rivulets in the crack in the windshield, I thought of
nothing but my little buddy, with whom I'd shared such a magical day the day
before.  Love sucks.  I felt like shit.
I worked again the next day, but it rained most of the day too, only this
time steady drizzle without lightning, so we had to stay open.  I longed for
Jake to show up but he never did.  I was off my food, couldn't sleep, and my
Mother's harsh words had stung so deeply that I couldn't even pleasure
myself with thoughts of my little friend stripping off his clothes in the
laundry room and giving me a show.  That evening Joe, the head guard, asked
me if I'd like to stick around the next day for lifeguard water polo.
"Sure, I guess" I accepted.
"It's after hours, but you can bring a friend if you'd like"
"Anyone?"
"As long as they know how to swim."
"I'm not on the schedule after 2 tomorrow afternoon.  What time should I be
here?
"Let's say after we close up at 6:30 - maybe around 7?"
"Sure", I said.  "I'll be here".  At least it would take my mind off Jake.
I taught my Beginner 2 class the next morning.  One of the little kids, a
little girl about 5 years old had been sitting by the side of the pool for
the entire first week of lessons.  This day she saw all the other kids
splashing around and having a great time, she decided finally to get into
the water.  Once in, she was a water baby, a natural swimmer, and was having
a great time.  It's times like that, teaching, that makes it so rewarding.
That afternoon I was just about to finish my shift.  I was cleaning the
toilets again when a familiar voice behind me said, "Want some help,
Buttwheat?"  It was Jake, grinning impishly.
"Jake!"  I wanted to kiss and hug him, instead I just stared.  "Where you
been?  I missed you."
"My Ma took me up North to see some relatives.  Said I needed to get out of
town for a coupla' days.  It was dull as hell."
"I get off in 5 minutes.  Whatchya doing?"
"I dunno.  What are you doing?"
"Beats me.  Wanna come along for the ride?"
"Otay, Buttwheat."  His stock phrase was beginning to annoy me, but only a
little.
I knew we couldn't go back to my house as my Ma was home.  "How about we go
for a drive?"  I asked.  The image of him spread out on a blanket  in the
woods with my soft kisses caressing every inch of his firm smooth young body
filled my inner vision.
"Sure"
We took off out of Clarkville, headed East, to the farm of a friend of my
Mother's.   We stopped by the farmhouse and I went up and knocked on the
door.  My Mother's friend, a middle aged woman with a couple of girls older
than me, answered.  I asked if I could take a drive out around the back
roads on her farm - it had been here by the creek that I'd learned to drive.
  She told me to go ahead and gave me a couple of brownies.
We drove out in back of the farmhouse on damp dirt roads through dense
woods.
"Do you want to learn how to drive?" I asked Jake.
"You bet"
We started with him sitting on my lap steering.  Having my mighty boner
pressed into his ass was almost more than I could stand, but I showed him
the fundamentals of driving, the clutch, brake, accelerator and how to shift
all the same.  Then with a sigh I got out from under him and sat in the
passenger seat.  Jake put the clutch in and I put the car in gear.  Then he
dropped the accelerator and the clutch simultaneously and off we shot like a
rocket, out of control.  I managed to knock the shifter into neutral and
apply the hand brake seconds before we hit a sapling and I hit the
windshield with my head, enlarging the crack a little.  Jake was in
hysterics laughing.  I was not amused, but I was still in love so I got over
it.  That was it for driving lessons, though.
"Say, Jake, Joe asked me to play water polo after hours.  He said I could
bring anyone, as long as they know how to swim.  Wanna come along?"
"Sure... only one thing..."
"What's that?"
"I don't have any swimming shorts, remember."
"I am sure I have an old pair that would fit you."
"Otay..."
"Buttwheat"  we chimed together.
We drove back to my house and snuck in the back way, up the back stairs so
we wouldn't wake my Ma, who usually takes a nap in the afternoon.  In my
room I found Jake an old pair of swimming trunks to use, old speedoes I'd
worn for swim team when I was his age.  At first he was reticent to use
them, but a little coaxing convinced him.
"It's getting late, Jake - we should change and get down there"
"You first", Jake giggled.
I flushed.  I could feel myself getting harder and harder.  What was I to
do?  Proudly show off my flagpole?  Demurely change in the washroom and kill
any chance of seeing his naked body?  I chose the former and slid my pants
down,  Jake broke into peals of laughter again as my stiff cock sprung out
of the top of my boxers.  He was watching every inch of me, I could see, and
it seemed he liked what he saw.  As I pulled my more modest lifeguard shorts
up, he stood facing me.  He wiggled his butt as he worked his pants slowly
down from either hip, then stepped out of them.  He wore red underwear
today, and I could clearly see them tent out, concealing his more modestly
sized firmly erect little boycock.  He was grinning from ear to ear and
doing his coquettish little dance as he slowly pulled his red panties down
from either hip.  As his little boycock sprung out I was fit to burst and
almost came in my pants.  He squealed and rolled over backwards on the bed,
kicking his legs in the air and laughing that sweet tinkling laughter of
his, like water chuckling over rocks.  He offered me his flower, darker than
the rest of that area - I could smell his musk.  I longed to plunge my sword
into him, to make him mine, but that little voice in my head was speaking to
me that I'd be sorry, and we would be late and this was wrong and etc. etc.
I wanted so badly to poke him, to stand over him, to suck his little boner,
to sniff and lick his little balls.  Oh how I wanted him.  Instead I left
him alone and he soon pulled those "wiener shorts" up to his hips and we set
off for the pool.

The game of water polo was a joke, a free for all with no rules.  Although
Jake was a good swimmer, he was no match for 8 trained lifeguards.  He was
the youngest player.  Joe teased him about his wiener shorts - I told Joe
they were on loan from me and "what's the big deal?"  As Jake sat out the
last half of the game, Joe pulled me aside and firmly told me that I wasn't
to invite Jake to any more after hours lifeguard parties.  My mistake.  The
night was to get better, though.
When I got Jake back to his house his Ma was drunker than ever.  She
screamed.  She swore.  She threw things.  She had the neighbors in the
street.  I asked Jake if he would like to spend the night at my house and he
hastily agreed.
My Ma and Grandma were already in bed when I got home at around 10:30.
Unusual for them, but they were just a higher class of drunk from Jake's Ma
- they would have taken their drinks to bed with them, a bottle of scotch
for my Ma, Brandy and Benedictine for my Grandma.
My bed was actually two beds pushed together with a king sized mattress pad
covering the gap.  I didn't have the guts to ask Jake to sleep with me; I
just separated the beds and made them both up as twins.  They were separated
by a mere two or three feet, though, and it was a warm night.  I found a
pair of Pajama bottoms for Jake to wear ( he refused the tops) and he
changed into them so quickly that I didn't have time to ogle.  After the
scene with his Mother, and knowing that an ugly scene could ensue if my Ma
found Jake at the house, it was a somber night.  As I lay there awake in my
boxers I watched Jake drift off.  We talked about dreams, of fast cars and
flying, of friends and expectations, of hopes and fears.  As Jake slept
softly I watched his small body, curled up with the sheet barely covering
his legs in the warm light.  In my mind I caressed the curve of his spine.
I brushed his lips with my fingertips.  I drew down his pajamas and traced
his pelvic girdle with my thumb.  In my mind I slept with my hand between
his legs.
We awoke early, and I hustled Jake out.  I didn't see him again for a few
days.
My next day off was unwitting.  I was just starting to experiment with pot
and I smoked a bowl before going to work.  On my way there I stopped by
McDonalds and ordered a Big Mac and some fries, and a chocolate shake from
the drive through.  Then I went to the first window and paid.  Then I drove
to work.  As I rounded the corner of the pool parking lot, I reached for my
food... and realized that in my stoned state I'd forgotten to go to the
second window.  Duh!  So I drove back... the girl in the window laughed at
me so hard she almost choked.  I ate my food by the benches just outside the
pool, with some of the kids.  They knew something was up with me, and
started to tease me - "High, Chay" they'd say.  Ha ha.  Very funny.  I
didn't last 10 minutes at work before the Kelsey, the assistant manager,
pulled me aside and asked if I'd been smoking.  I told her yes.  She tore me
a new asshole, and suspended me for the rest of the day.  She said that if I
EVER did that again I'd be gone.  And that if I'd showed up to teach my
class like that I would not only have been fired, but likely sued too.  I
was in deep shit.  It was Joe's day off, but Kelsey called him at home.  He
came in and wouldn't let me drive.  He drove me home, chewing my ass out the
whole way, "Don't you ever ....blah blah blah."
At home I met my Ma and Grandma on their way out the door.  "We're going
into the city - We'll be back late.  There's a casserole in the 'fridge" - I
told them that I'd screwed up my hours and didn't have to work until later.
A couple of hours later I destined enough to ride my bike down to the pool
to pick up my car.  As I was putting the bike in the trunk, who should walk
up, but Jake.
"Hey, Chay, what's up?"
"Oh Hi, Jake.  Not much - I got given a little "Vacation"".
"What for?"
I held my fingers tight together and imitated puffing on a spliff.
"Ohh.  Whatchya gonna do?"
"Go home, I guess.  Watch TV.  My Ma and Grandma went to the city.  How come
you're not swimming?"
"They wouldn't let me swim in my cutoffs."
"Oh.  Wanna come back to my place?"
"Sure".
We hopped in the car and drove back to the mansion.
We started with drinks.  Brandy and orange juice, with a little rum thrown
in for good measure.  I decided against getting stoned again due to the
inclement nature of the last experience, but a few drinks later we were both
well oiled.  We were watching TV for a while, but this was a while back
before we got cable, and we only got 4 channels.  Soaps, soaps, news, or
sesame street.
"Hey Jake - I've got a bb gun in the basement.  Let's go shoot up some cans"
"Otay Buttwheat" (Yeah I'd been staring at his crotch again).
Well the play with the .177 lasted about 15 minutes.  I told Jake he was a
lousy shot.
"Suck my dick", he said, and gave me a conspiratorial, coquettish look.
I flushed.  My dick went stiff as a rock instantly.  I must have tented out
as I said, "Only if you suck mine too".
He grinned from ear to ear and said, "You first".
This was one of those life - changing moments, the kind of time in the
movies when the camera moves back and pans in at the same time.  I was
confused.  This was wrong, but here was a beautiful boy, actually wanting to
suck my dick.  If I hadn't been drunk, hadn't had the residual pot, I
probably would have been a good boy.  Not then.  I was a very baaaaad boy.
First I tentatively, testing the waters, lifted my shirt over my head.  This
elicited a positive look from Jake, so I slowly untied the string of my
lifeguard shorts and slipped them down from either hip.  I sprang out again.
  I sat down on the wooden chair and Jake sauntered up.  He knelt before me
and took my throbbing cock in his hands, gently stroking.
"It's so big"
"Yours will grow" - and with little further said, he expertly went down on
me, first licking the head of my 6" cut cock, then nibbling on the head a
little with those pearly white teeth, before sucking me all the way in.  He
rolled me around with his tongue as I caressed his blond hair and ran my
hand inside his shirt over his smooth rippling back muscles.  Oh, God, this
felt so good.  I've never been so hard, before or since, so hard that I
could not come though I longed to.
After what seemed too short a time he withdrew and asked me if I liked it.
"Oh, God, yeah Jake.  That was fantastic."  I didn't ask him how he learned
to suck cock so well, but I wondered.
"But hey, Jake, it's your turn".
"Otay " "Buttwheat" we both chimed together.  He stood up and took off his T
shirt, then started to undo his cutoffs.
"Let me do that" I asked.
He put his hands on my shoulders as I slowly undid his zipper.  Then I
unpopped his popper-snapper and folded back his shorts to expose his red
underwear.  I slid his shorts slowly down and he stepped out of them.  He
was tenting out his Y fronts pretty impressively as I first caressed his
balls through his underwear, which I then slid slowly down from either hip,
savoring the uncovering of his hairless pubis.  As his cock flopped out I
slid his underwear to the floor.  Then I grabbed his ass cheeks and spread
them apart a little as I pulled his 3 " cut boner to my anticipating lips.
I licked the tip.  I licked his balls.  I kneaded his bubble butt.  I sucked
him in, then nibbled, sucked, licked, fondled.  I traced his pelvic girdle
with my thumb and as I sucked him in again he threw his head back and moaned
in ecstasy.
After a while of sucking him I found another chair and we sat facing each
other, fondling each other, touching.  I asked him if I could kiss him and
he agreed.  It was dry at first, but as I worked my tongue in he got into
the action, furiously fondling me and kissing me hard and wet.  God, this
kid was good!  Better than either of the women I'd been with, better even
than Ben Hampton, who'd done the same thing to me when I was Jake's age.  I
was taken back to the sex sessions me and Ben would have, the first time in
the crawlspace in the attic when he'd convinced me to take my pants off and
to suck his dick.  The time we walked down to the cemetery after dark and
laid on our backs in the grass fondling each other.  The first time he had
me put my legs over my head and shoved two fingers up my butt, while jerking
me off.  To the last time we'd had sex together, in the attic again, when
he'd asked me if he could give me a blow job.  I had told him "I'm not gay,
Ben".
"Neither am I" he'd replied.
"Well, OK then"  - I'd just started to sprout hair.  He sucked me until I
came.  He asked me why I was getting soft "I came in your mouth," I'd said.
"Oh yeah, I guess you did, a little".
So when he shot a wad of cum in my mouth, I'd said "Oh yeah, I guess you did
a little".
We'd pretty much just been into the sucking, but I asked him then if I could
buttfuck him and Ben had said sure.  We used a little lotion that was laying
around, but I just slid all over  his crack, never got it in.  He asked me
if he could do me, and I said No Way.  Ben was HUGE.
As I thought of my times with Ben, I thought about the lotion.  "Hold on a
sec, Jake."  I went into the laundry room and found a bottle of suntan
lotion.  We again sat facing each other, whacking each other off, smearing
the lotion all over.  Then I wiped him off and sucked him again but the
lotion tasted awful.  Heck that didn't stop us - we rinsed ourselves off as
best we could in the laundry sinks and resumed out play.  I found some old
rags and lay them, and our clothes on the floor, and had Jake lay on me the
other way around.  H licked and sucked me as I did likewise.  I spread his
butt cheeks open while I sucked his cock (Still tasting of lotion) and
rubbed my nose in his sweet musky asshole.  It didn't smell bad - in fact
any time I smell a particular brand of suntan lotion to this day, that's
what I think of.  I played with his asshole with my fingertips, but he
didn't seem to like it.  "Mmmm mmmm" he said.
After a lot of that I asked him if he'd like to try fucking me up the ass.
He said he would, so I leaned over the chair and lubed up.  But it was just
like Bill and me, he slid all over.  I asked him if I could do him, but he
said I was too big.  We ended by sitting facing each other jerking ourselves
off.  I came first, and hit him in the chest and leg and arm; then he came
on me, although it was more like pee than cum - or cum mixed with pee.  He
told me years later it was his first time cumming - and I believe him.
I said we should take a shower.  I told him a little about Ben and me, and
he wanted to go to the attic and check it out.  I told him that you could
hear every sound in the attic from downstairs, and I didn't know what time
the folks would be home.  So a shower it was.
I scooped up our clothes and headed up the back stairs to my room.  The
house was quiet, but as I still had quite the buzz going, I was beyond
caring anyway.  In my room I dumped the dirty clothes on the floor and
grabbed a couple of towels.  We headed for the shower.  I adjusted the taps
and flipped up the lever to shower, and we both stepped in.  Jake was
giggling again.  The melodious sound of his tinkling laughter was muffled by
the stream of warm water and the plastic shower curtain.  I longed to get
clean again, to be rid of the foul tasting suntan lotion, to wash the dust
from th basement off, perhaps to cleanse my soul.  Every second spent naked
in the presence of this fine young boy was cake for me.  My cock was
permanently hard.  I wanted him, to take him, to posses him, to be inside
him so badly I was insane from it.  I washed and licked him, caressed him,
shampooed his hair.  I shampooed his stiff cock too.  I got behind him and
pressed up against him as I took soap to his front.  The sheer necessity of
taking his firm young behind built and built until I could stand it no
longer - I picked him up and tried to enter him from behind.  He thought it
was a game; we both slipped and fell with a mighty thud into the bathtub.
He was laughing still when there was a  banging on the door.  It was my
mother demanding to know what was going on in there.
What an opressive downer that was.  I don't want to bum you out, suffice to
say Jake had to leave - he was kicked out unceremoniously and had to walk
home.  The lawyer was called.  The next day Jake stopped by to return my
shorts but I was not allowed to see him.  My mother told me that while she
left the kitchen momentarily she returned to find him going through my
Grandmother's handbag.  He didn't show up again at the pool that summer.  I
didn't see him again for two years.
I saw him again at the pool.  I was there only briefly, as I was there to
see a friend working there.  She was busy, so I waited outside.
Jake showed up out of the blue.  He sat down opposite me as I was reading a
book and said, "Hi, Buttwheat".   I was thrilled to see him.  He'd changed a
little - his voice was deeper, he'd grown.
"Hi, Jake".
"Whatchya doing?"
"Waiting for Carol to get off work."
"You guys going out?"
"Nah, just friends, but I do have  a girlfriend, called Daisy.  She's really
cool."
We talked about this and that for a while, just the two of us.  I reassured
him that I'd changed and didn't lust after little boys anymore. I think he
still wanted to do it again as he asked when I'd show him the secret room in
the attic.  He never even looked in my Grandma's purse.  Wasn't it funny, a
couple of days after he left my house for the last time, a sheriff's deputy
called by his house and spoke to his mother.  Told him he wasn't to be
troubling good folks like me, if he knew what was good for him.  He didn't
get a lot of swimming done that summer.  My heart broke for him.  It still
does, thinking back to what could have been the best time of my life.