Date: Mon, 27 Jun 2016 00:21:00 +0000 (UTC)
From: dalart101@yahoo.com
Subject: Lucky Lisp Chapter Two

Lucky Lisp, by Dal.
Chapter 2
For Mature Readers only.

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Within the sheltered existence of Db's suburban home his parents invited
friends over one afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Miller had just finalized their
adoption of a handsome 16-year-old Chinese boy named Yung Kee.

Db's dad called him Chung King and the boy looked at him funny.

Db's mom poked him, "What are you calling the kid?"

"Chung King. That's his name."

"No, it's not! That's a Chinese canned food."

The boys seemed to hit it off, despite their difference in age.

"Do you like Bruce Lee?"

"Yeah, Cato is awesome." Db said.

"Wooooh, he's very good looking!"

They escaped to Db's room and played a game Yung invented.

Yung scribbling on paper. "Here are some words I know."

visual written on paper he's holding:

Fellatio, Masturbation, Ejaculation.

The topic of sex was taboo in Db's house. These words were new and exciting
to him. "Do you know "Orgasm?" Yung asked, with an obvious tent in his
pants.

DB pulled his shorts down to his ankles, his immature penis not fully
awake. "Is this an orgasm?" Db asked his friend. It wasn't. Db didn't even
know the meaning of the word.

"Awwwwwhhhh!!!" Yung let out a high-pitched squeal like something right out
of a Bruce Lee film. Db was afraid he did something wrong! Db's head was
spinning with thoughts. He imagined the religious man whispering in his
ear: "The devil enjoys watching you."

The older boy proceeded to poke Db's boy-dick like a kitten playing with a
toy mouse. It didn't take long for Db's cock to stand straight up. Yung
grabbed it and let out a high-pitched laugh.

"Ahhhhahahaha!!!"

"OWWWWW, oww, let go!" Db pleaded.

Db shrieked in pain until Yung released his grip, having squeezed it for
all it was worth.

"Yung, that hurt!"...

Let's see if dinner's ready." Db suggested, as he pulled his shorts back
up, happy Yung hadn't yanked the thing off completely.

The boys circled the grill like vultures until they were told by Db's
father to "Go play in the expressway" as he liked to crack wise.

Db: "What's this stuff?" Db's mom: "It's chicken, don't touch it."

The boys walked around the back of the house when Yung found a fly swatter.

The Chinese boy held the flyswatter and announced, "There's a fly!" and
whacked Db's crotch. Db laughed, then Yung grabbed his arms, lifted his
shirt, and pushed the twelve year old up against the side of the house.

Yung: "This is what I want to do to you." grinding into him: (Thump! Thump!
Thump!)

Db: "Oh, yeah."

As the Chinese boy dry-humped him, rubbing his hardness against him, Db
closed his eyes, longing to be kissed.

They heard a voice over the fence that belonged to Betsy, his 9-year-old
neighbor. "What are you doing?"

 Yung: "Oh, that's Chinese wrestling!"

"Well, it doesn't look like wrestling to me!" She said.

Crisis averted. Or so they thought. They had forgotten all about Yung's
list of dirty words. Db's brother found the list and ratted him out.

Db's Mom grabbed DB by the back of the head like he was the family dog and
rubbed his nose in it, literally forcing his head down into the newsprint.

"What is this Filth? How Obscene! Where did you learn such Vile Filth! I
will not have Smut in my house! Do you hear me! ...Disgusting! You're
12. You're not allowed to lust. I won't let you."

It didn't matter that it wasn't Db's handwriting. He was never allowed to
see Yung again.

It seemed Db was going to have to satisfy his sexual curiosity by watching
scrambled porn on cable TV. Shortly after the thirteen year old discovered
shirtless pictures of John Schneider in his Dukes of Hazzard Activity
Book. So Db made a deal with the devil that if he could wake up on a beach
with Bo Duke he would sell his soul.

"God Damn it!" Db woke up the next morning soul intact and no sign of
Bo. Having heard some commotion in the yard next-door Db went to
investigate. There we a couple of kids with bb guns shooting birds.

"I just shot the eye out of a blackbird. You should have seen the blood
trail, it was cool as hell." Said the kid. His name was Elvin. Or "Mad as
Hellvin" as the kids in school called him. Db had seen him around. He liked
to carry a whip and always traveled with a backpack filled with a fifth of
something. There were rumors that his Mother was an alcoholic and made him
have sex with his sister.

Db kind of felt sorry for him, but he really felt bad for the bird.

"You want to hang out with us?." Elvin asked.

"Sure!" Db would make friends with the devil himself just to keep from
dying of ennui.

"You gotta do a dare first. See that wall? You gotta climb over, find the
bird, and bring it back here." Elvin insisted.

"And try not to get buggered!" Elvin's friend quipped.

At the other side of the wall was "The queer house." Db knew it
well. Everybody called it that because a gay man and his entourage lived
there. All the kids in the neighborhood were warned to stay away.

Elvin and his friend gave Db a boost and Db jumped down into the dirt
within the vast garden of the queer house. He was awestruck as he surveyed
the premises. It was an enormous property filled with Cypress trees and
stairs peppered with Greek statues. Suddenly Db was surprised by a Cocker
spaniel who gave chase after a warning bark.

"Beardsley, No!" Db heard a voice command just as the dog nipped at his
backside. Db winced. The dog's bite nearly broke skin.

"Young man, are you alright? What in heaven's name are you doing back
here?"

Db looked up to see what he was sure was a very homely woman with purple
hair, long fingernails, and a green waistcoat.

"I'm sorry, M'am."

"You are mistaken. I am not of the female persuasion."

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"That's the trouble with children, they are not returnable. The provocation
of my attire should not be underestimated. I am dressed this way because I
am famous."

"Have I seen you on TV.?" Db asked innocently.

"Obviously not! I am an impersonator of the stately old homo of England,
the raconteur Quentin Crisp. And this is the equally famous Oscar Wilde,
Noel Coward, and Truman Capote." All raised an eyebrow and returned to
their crosswords.

They were strange, but as a child you accept things without
question. Underneath Quentin's purple hair and extravagant make-up the
affected witty homosexual seemed a warm and caring uncle.

"Care for some Champagne and cost-cutter peanuts?" He asked. Db dove in.

"Mr. Crispy, if you're so famous what are you doing in Michigan?" Db wanted
to know."Young man, we work the literary circle and gay night at Todd's."

"You're bent?"

"You'd think to look at me would be enough!" "But don't worry, dear boy. We
don't go for babies. You look lost." Quentin intimated.

Just then, a yell came from over the wall,

"You get it?"

"Your friends are calling." Quentin said.

"They're not really my friends. They just want their dead bird."

"Ughhh!... That dreadful thing Beardsley carried into the house? This
amazes me. We'd all like to have friends, but if you have to put up with
sheer idiocy, the price is ridiculous!"

"I'm only telling you these things to set you free." Quentin continued. You
need merely decide who you are and where you are going."

Db paused for a long time as if he were letting his words sink in.

"Everybody knows who I am and nobody likes me." Db muttered.

"Oh, you know such wonderful people! Imbeciles, every last one of them. I'm
sure I'm right about this. You have to take a long look at what your
friends call, "The trouble with you." That will show you what's going on
there. It requires a journey to the interior. Not all together a pleasant
excursion."

Db was astonished. He was unlike anyone Db had ever met. Then again, Db had
never carried on a conversation with a genuine homosexual.

"Mr. Crispy?"

"Quentin, if you please."

"Quentin. If I'm gay, do I have to wear ladies clothes?"

"I choose to live my life with my sexuality clearly apparent. I will say
this, having directly asserted that you're gay; you must polish your
identity. Never keep up with the Joneses. Drag them down to your level."

Db climbed down the wall and made an attempt to take Quentin's words to
heart.

"About time! Where's my bird?" Elvin asked.

"I suggest you take it up with the dog and write a proper obituary." Db
remarked. Elvin's eyes got big. Then he punched Db in the nose leveling him
to the ground.

A few weeks later Db got the surprise of his life when his Mom called him
downstairs. "Turtle?" Db beamed at the sight of the boy standing in front
of him. He thought his friend from the Scouts fell off the face of the
earth, but as it turned out his family moved to Chapel Hill and his dad
took a job at a textile mill. But what really had Db gob-smacked was- What
the heck was in the water down South that turned his little imp of a friend
into such a super sizzling, gorgeous fourteen year old guy?

Too bad Turtle was only there for a few days. Still, it made Db as happy as
the kid on the box of Happy Boy Margarine. Especially since he'd be
spending the night, the prospect of which was both scary and exciting.

But it didn't take long for Db to get wind of the fact that his friend
wasn't the sweet young thing he once knew. It really threw him for a
loop. New Turtle acted kind of cocky and talked about boy stuff like how
the North Carolina Tar Heels were sure to win their division and how many
fights he got into at school. He said funny things like "Dang" and "Y'all"
and wore his Southern accent like a badge of honor. Crap, he even had a
girlfriend.

"You seeing anybody?... I hear that Katie Wade-Nixon chick is pretty cute."
Turtle asked.

"Nah, give me more credit that that. She's been tapped a few times." Db
pretended to speak with authority, based on a few loose rumors he'd
heard. "Not much left in my class in the way of decent chicks."

"You're high! Me, I just want a girlfriend that puts out." Turtle scoffed.

Db wondered if Turtle even remembered that they were in love with each
other when they were little. Was this the same boy? It didn't seem like
grown-up Turtle had a gay bone in his body.

That night was amazing though! The two boys had a sleepover after filling
up on Spaghettio's and Mountain Dew. Then they wrestled a while. Turtle won
every time, of course. When it was time for bed they both stripped down to
their tighty-whities, and that's when Db got nervous. He stared at the
ceiling, and even re-arranged the socks in his dresser drawer in an attempt
to keep from gazing at his friend's half-naked body.

Thankfully, Turtle broke the ice by saying how his brother gave him some
great porn if Db wanted to see it. Turtle quickly produced a copy of
Hustler from his knapsack so they could look at it together. Surely, it was
no big wup for two teenagers to sit next to each other in their underwear
looking at a porno mag, but Db was kinda shaking. He tried not to look at
his friend's dick pushing up through his briefs. What he wouldn't give to
kiss his perfect brown nipples. Db was boned up in no time. He was fraught
with worry that his friend was gonna make fun of him or worse. But Turtle
just figured the images of tits and clits were having an effect on him and
went on to tell Db a secret about how his cousin Bruce taught him to jerk
off when he was 11 and a half.

"I freaked when it shot out... I thought I broke something." Turtle
confessed, and Db laughed along with him. At that point they were both were
really horny but heard Db's mother moving around downstairs so they decided
they better turn off the lights. They sure didn't want to get caught
looking at Turtle's contraband.

Db's bed was happily big enough for the both of them, but not so big that
Db couldn't tell his friend was playing with himself under the covers five
minutes after his head hit the pillow. Db suspected Turtle was jacking off
thinking about the girls in the magazine; and Db was squeezing his own cock
thinking about his friend, inches away. Db could hear the unmistakable wank
under the covers, the rustle of the material, his breathing. It was making
him crazy. "Arrrgggghh!" Db felt like screaming at the top of his
lungs. He'd give anything to have enough gumption to offer to help him with
his little problem. But Db didn't dare.

Turtle continued his tug of war with his cock for at least ten minutes
until he finally pulled the covers back and let out a delicate squeal. Db
craned his neck trying to sneak a peak, but Turtle had his back to
him. Then he heard the bed creak as his friend got up and threw his soiled
underwear into his backpack. In the blackness of the night Db watched as
the boy pulled on a fresh pair of J.C. Penny briefs over his slender bottom
before returning to bed, as if jerking off next to somebody was perfectly
normal.

It was eight in the morning when Db woke up to discover his hand around
Turtle's waist and Turtle's hand on top of his. Since he was spooning him
so tightly Db was sure Turtle could feel his entire dick through his
underwear pressed up against his butt and it really freaked him out! Just
the same, Db didn't think he was awake so he slowly got his hand out of
there and rolled free.

Db enjoyed being close to Turtle... just not with his dick up against
him... that part was a little strange among friends, crush or no crush.

Somehow he couldn't help but wonder, was Turtle still into him? Was last
night's display for his benefit? He had a girlfriend, didn't he?

Just as Db was trying to catch his breath, Turtle rolled onto his side so
he was looking right at him. Then, as Turtle gazed into his eyes and
smiled, Db impulsively kissed him on the cheek.

"What the heck was that?" Turtle looked at him dumbfounded.

"I'm just goofing!" Db said adamantly, hoping Turtle would forget about it
in 30 seconds. But it turned out to be a deal breaker. Which was kind of
unfair. Hadn't Turtle tried to kiss him when they were ten? What had
changed?

The next day it became painfully obvious that their relationship had turned
sour. Turtle wasn't joking around anymore. If anything, he was acting like
a dick. After Db's Mom made them pancakes and left them to their own
devices they wrestled in front yard. But it wasn't fun and touchy-feely
like the day before. It was more like Turtle was trying to hurt him.

"Pussy!" was the name Turtle hurled at him after Db started to cry when he
had his arm pinned back behind his head. Turtle proceeded to stuff grass
and other things up his nose. Then things went really wrong. Turtle pushed
his crotch up and down into Db's face, the zipper from his jeans scratching
Db's cheek in the process.

"Like that, fag boy?" Then Turtle decided he was going to do it...

Db stared up at his tormentor wide-eyed as Turtle undid his Rebel flag belt
buckle, whipped out his dick, and gleefully started singing...

"Bye, bye Miss American Pie, Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was
dry... And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye..."

Db felt some wetness splash on his face, reached his hand up, and looked at
the piss on his hands in disbelief before a stream of urine landed right in
his face, went in his mouth, and got in his eyes.

Db was filled with rage and tried as hard as he could to buck Turtle off
him as his friend emptied his bladder. Turtle was clearly amused with
himself, and further humiliated Db by shaking his dick so that it smacked
Db on the side of his cheek a bunch of times before he eventually let him
up.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that, fairy!" Turtle shouted as Db ran into
the house. The mortified boy locked himself in his bedroom and stayed there
a good twenty minutes before taking a shower and putting his urine-soaked
clothes in the washer so his Mom wouldn't find out.

Turtle went back to North Carolina that day and Db couldn't be happier. The
one letter he got from him asked him if he was still "Queer" and didn't
even attempt to apologize for hosing him down. Db wished he could hold on
to his memory of when they were ten, but something changed in him. Turtle
was fucked up. Db heard he went to Juvie for stabbing a Kmart security
guard a few years later and Db kinda felt glad for it.

As High School approached Db feared a repeat of the group humiliation he
experienced in Junior High. He remembered Quentin's advice, "Be yourself,
everyone else is already taken." But as he contemplated outing himself he
decided that the only way to avoid getting his teeth kicked-in was by
pretending to be normal. On the first day of school Db spotted a slender
tow-headed youth picking spit wads out of his hair named Jeffrey. Db
recognized himself in him.

Jeffrey put on a brave Freshman face but Db knew that on the inside he was
screaming in anguish. There exist in all us gay boys the recurring
nightmare of walking down the hall covered in gasoline, while laughing boys
throw matches at you and call you a homo.

They were walking towards each other on a narrow footpath in back of school
when their eyes first met.

"Hi, I'm J-J-J-eff-rey." Jeffrey stuttered hello.

"It's cool. I stutter sometimes when I see a hot chick." Db said back.

"I have a hole in my underwear!" Jeffrey announced, and pushed his gym
shorts down under his butt cheek.

"Kinky." Db replied.

When Jeffrey turned around his crotch was pointy. He attempted to cover up
by taking a knee.

Db took one look at the beet-red expression on Jeffrey's face and burst out
laughing.

"Dude, put down the tent." Db laughed. Db walked away all proud of
himself. Who needs gaydar? That's what boners are for. The thing is, Db
liked him. They could have been best of friends. Or boyfriends even. But it
wasn't meant to be. Despite Mr. Crisp's advice Db wasn't ready to come to
terms with his own sexuality. So he took it out on Jeffrey.

From then on every day was pick-on-Jeffrey day. Db trapped him and wouldn't
let him go to class...He pushed him off the bleachers and made him
cry... He pantsed him in the cafeteria... and threw his baseball glove in
the crapper.

He even had a free sample of Kotex addressed to Jeffrey and mailed to his_
house. (It was no fun for Jeffrey trying to explain that to his Dad.) It
all seemed innocent enough. It was the kind of shit that haunts the back of
a kid's mind is all. Meanwhile, everyone still suspected Db was queer and
gave him a lot of shit. But Db was determined that if high school was a
shit sandwich, he was going to make Jeffrey take a bite. Gym provided all
the opportunities a sadistic bully could ask for.

The day Jeffrey was partnered up with Db to do leg lifts Db complained loud
enough so everyone could hear.

"That's high enough!" "Stop looking at my balls." Boisterous laughter
ensued. His deception campaign was working. When they went into the lockers
to change Db locked eyes with Jeffrey briefly. "See something you like?" Db
teased. Then he made an announcement.

"Hey guys!..I'm gonna streak the halls... Hold Jeffrey back...he wants to
play Mr. anal intruder."

"Hey Jeffrey, are you a poker or a pokey? The other boys chimed in.

...Come get me you big rump ranger, ha! ha!"

"That dude leaves teeth marks on penises." "He leaves behind sucker marks
on assholes."

"The crack of the moon isn't safe around that kid."

Jeffrey got so upset he ran up to Db and pushed him into a locker. But Db
miraculously swung around and threw him into the towel bin. Db couldn't
help notice Jeffrey had a big one for such a little wimp. A look of horror
came over Db when he realized what happened next. Db was getting a
semi. The charade was over. Everyone was sure to know he was a fag. He'd
never live it down.

"Aaaarrrgggh!" Db went mental. He ran at Jeffrey like an angry spaz and
started throwing wild punches at him. Several blows missed, but one landed
across his face and gave him a fat lip. The Coach came in just as the
defeated Jeffrey crouched on the floor sniffling. The Coach immediately
grabbed Db by the throat, told him to get dressed and report to the
Principal's Office.

The Principal, looked at Db with smirk as he sat down in the seat across
from him. He confused him with another kid who took over a Freshman
Connection meeting with a water pistol and demanded donuts.

"I know your kind, indoor snowball fights, smarting off to teachers, think
you're a regular hooligan, don't ya?"

Db looked like him like he was crazy. Where was he getting his information?

"Jeffrey started it!"

"I'm not interested in excuses. You're lucky I'm only suspending you for
two days. Next time... there better not be a next time." The Principal
warned. "And make nice with the fruitcake... what's his name?"

"Jeffrey Peters." Db said.

"Peters, Jeffrey." The principal recorded in his ledger.

Their parents were called in. The two boys chatted in the Counselors office
while their parents talked in the adjacent room.

"I'm not the total asswipe you think I am." Db said.

"Could have fooled me." Jeffrey boldly asserted, then cringed a little
before Db broke the silence and laughed.

"I was going to kill you." Jeffrey confessed. "I had it all worked out. I
was going to make a weapon in art class and stab you with it."

"Were not."

"Was too."

"...Can I ask you something?" Db asked.

J: "Suppose."

Db whispered: "Are you really, you know... Gay?"

J: "No!"

Db: "It's ok. I won't tell anyone."

J: "Yeah, right."

Db returned to school after a two-day vacation. Kids were still talking
about the fight as if Db was a rock star.

"Did you see the fight?"

"Db made a fist?... Didn't know he had it in him."... "He hit that Queero
Weirdo so hard, his freckles jumped off his skin. His freckles were like
..."Don't hurt me!"

Db left Jeffrey alone after that, only pretending to be amused as Jeffrey
walked into class and got shit thrown at him. Someone etched the words, Die
Faggot! into Jeffrey's desk and made him cry.

Of course, in the Seventies no one talked about kids killing themselves for
being gay. People didn't think kids could be gay, period. So when Jeffrey
didn't show up to school the next day everyone said he was depressed. That
was the school's official position on his apparent suicide attempt.

His mother knew different. She found him hanging in his bedroom closet by
his father's paisley necktie, barely conscious.

"Jeffrey!" She screamed. She frantically tried to loosen the knot while his
father held Jeffrey's weight in his arms. With the noose loosened, the blue
boy was scooped up and rushed to the hospital.

"Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey!" his mother shook her son as blood gushed from
his nose and soaked his Adidas tracksuit. Revived and on suicide watch in
the hospital his classmates were invited to visit him. But when his parents
saw Db they became hysterical.

"You!... You did this!" They didn't care how sorry he was. They blamed him
for everything. They didn't understand anything! Db ran out crying. As he
made his way to the Lobby he stopped dead in his tracks. It was Quentin. He
was on a stretcher about to be escorted to ECU.

"Mr. Crispy?... I mean, Quentin?" Db asked.

"Yes Lord?" Quentin asked.

"It's me. Db. From next door."

"Basil. My real name is Basil Kay, dear child."

"Are you o.k.?"

"Heavens, no. I've had a heart attack."

"Well, that's a bummer." Db sobbed.

"To say the least. I'm in the twilight of my life. I've enjoyed growing old
disgracefully. I will no longer have to sing for my supper."

Db would see Jeffrey again. But Gay Mr. Kay met his maker that evening. Db
crawled into his shell. Was this the way it was? Life just tramples your
heart? Db was sure he'd never be able to talk to anyone about his "problem"
now.