I must preface this story by saying that it is pure fantasy. As you might know, I don't always write fantasy. Sometimes I write fact disguised as fantasy. It's up to you to tell the difference. I avoid the usual disclaimers because, I figure, why are you here in the first place? Wouldn't you like to be surprised for a change?
by Larkin, .... jet2larkin (at) gmail (.) com
Part 3: The City, Jeanie, Playland, The liberty Motel.
Joey asked, "Who was he?"
Peter looked down at the strangely placed mosaic on the ground in Central Park, then he looked up at the sky. "Um he was part of the Beatles. He was shot right over there a long time ago right in front of the Dakota."
He pointed at a large old fashioned building across the street. The two spent the day together just wandering around the city.
"When was the last time you saw your Mom?"
Joey thought for a moment. "I don't know, maybe a few days ago. She was with some guy that looked like he had money."
Peter thought for a moment. "Well then she probably tryin to get her hands on the rest of it. She'll come home soon. Why don't you stay with me for a few days?"
Joey said, "Okay."
They took the F train out to Coney Island just to look at the ocean. After only a few minutes they turned around and took the train back into town. It was a nice sight to see the edge of the city but the journey seemed to be pointless. They stood together on the boardwalk and looked at the ocean. Neither one of them had actually been on the sand or ever walked down to the water. It never occurred to them that this was the very edge of the world.
Back on Ninth avenue, the sat and ordered Chinese.
"Um, chicken and broccoli and pork fired rice and one order of egg rolls."
Joey interrupted, "And fortune cookies!"
Peter was calm, "Don't worry, you always get fortune cookies."
They never talked about the things that they did in bed together but the desires and wants for Peter were never far from his mind. As much as he knew how, Peter did his did his best to keep the boy happy. He watched him while he ate and even Peter, who also was bred on the street, couldn't help but see how beautiful Joey was. It was more intense for him because Peter had seen him naked, he had seen his small thin erection and round textured scrotum. He had smelled his dirty socks and underwear and He had been aroused by his sweet body scent and tasted his behind. There was nothing that Peter didn't love about Joey.
The boy was always comfortable and secure with Peter. He willingly placed himself in the older man's care. They had known each other for a more than three years and now, Peter was watching him grow up.
He actually feared the day that Joey might be a grown man. Would he be tall and be called Joe by his friends? Would he have contempt for him and the dirty things that they did together? Would he hold Peter accountable for terrible crimes? Joey's Mother seemed oblivious and unconcerned about Peter's relationship with her son. She cared about Joey but relied on him to let others know if he needed something. This was the same way that she survived in her own life.
Peter had always thought that he liked women and he responded to the social pressures to like women but after 3 years in prison at Fishkill, upstate, he learned that sex with men had virtues altogether different from women. After knowing Joey, Peter was no longer sure of anything. Unworried, he was resolved to go with the flow.
They had gone to see a movie together. It was an action picture. Sitting in the seats next to each other, Joey watched the adventure that was up on the screen and imagined himself part of it.
Peter did too but he was also thinking of Joey naked. Thinking of his scent and his own hard cock. The smell of a boy was different than that of a woman and it was different than another man. It was light, magical, forbidden and intoxicating. In the dark theater, his large cock erected in his pants. He heard Joey laughing up at the brightly colored swirling picture in the dark theater.
They lay together in Peter's darkened apartment. Joey lay quietly on his belly, waiting. It was a sign of readiness and receptivity. Joey had long ago given himself to Peter and expected and wanted him to do anything he wanted. He knew what Peter liked to do and he didn't care as long as it made him happy. He knew that afterwards, Peter would cherish him and care about him. Without Peter, Joey's life would be empty of affection and intimacy.
Without rolling over, Joey elevated his behind so that Peter could pull his pants down below his thighs. He stroked Joey's smooth behind and parted it with his fingers. He traced the boy's butt hole with his forefinger and then carefully penetrated him.
A few days later, the boy turned the key and let himself into the apartment where he lived with his Mother.
There was an unpacked bag of groceries sitting on the floor next to the refrigerator. Joey went over and began to distribute the items to where they should go. He pulled out a package containing a sticky sweet pastry and opening it, cut a piece for himself. Walking passed his daybed he opened the door to the only other room in the apartment, his Mother's bedroom.
He saw one bare foot sticking out from under the blanket. He was relieved that it was just her and not some strange man with her. Finding someone with her could be unsettling. Sometimes the guys she brought home were ok but most of the time they were strange, nervous and even threatening men that she saw once and then never again. Joey was grateful that she was alone. He stuffed the last of the sticky pastry into his mouth and then climbed onto the blanket covered lump that was his mother. She groaned and moaned. Finally she turned over and through squinty eyes, looked at her son.
"Oh, honey, let me sleep a few more hours. It was already getting light when I finally got home."
Joey was on top of her riding her as if she was a horse.
She mumbled from the pillow. "Did you get something to eat, I brought food home?"
Joey was softly bouncing up and down on her. Realizing that there was no getting him to stop, she turned over so she could look up at him and give her son at least a small amount of attention. She brushed pastry crumbs off of his dirty face.
"I'm sorry I was gone so long, were you okay?"
Joey looking unconcerned, shook his head yes.
"That's good. You might not believe it but I do worry about you."
Joey had heard it all before but he was glad that she was finally home. "Where did you go."
"Joey honey, get me my bag over there please."
Sitting up she began to organize her thinking. "Oh lord, I went somewhere out on Long Island with a friend. I'd rather not go into it if you don't mind. I'm actually relieved to be home."
Joey gave her the Moroccan bag. Rummaging through it she found her cigarettes and a lighter. Joey grabbed the pack and pulled one out for himself.
She lit his cigarette and said, "I really wish you wouldn't smoke. Eleven year old boys shouldn't smoke ya know."
He abruptly answered, "I'm twelve and anyway, how old were you when you started smoking?"
"Never mind about me, I am an all around bad example."
They both blew smoke into the small, cluttered and stale bedroom.
"I hope you know you can go to Tony or Peter if you need anything. What did you do while I was away?"
Joey studied her face when he said, "I stayed at Peter's"
He wondered if she might have any idea what her own son and Peter did together. If she did, there was no sign in her expression.
She said, off handedly, "That's good."
Joey didn't like to think about the things that his Mother did with the men she had sex with and yet, he was doing the very same things. Did she or could she imagine her son doing some of those same things? She reached into her bag and pulled out a small purse and opened it. In it there was a wad of bills and she pulled out a twenty and gave it to her son. He looked at it and without saying a word, put it in his pocket.
It was an arcade on Times Square. All the old pinball machines had been carted off and replaced by new colorful and noisy video machines. This was the attraction for boys of all ages. Boys of all ages was the attraction for men. Men that traveled to New York City on business. Men with wives and kids and a house in the suburbs. Men that had voted Republican and were sure they were completely hetero until they saw a poorly dressed boy playing on the machine. Boys in groups, laughing, running and fighting. Boys by themselves looking mournful, sullen or happy playing the machines or just waiting. A boy smoking cigarette is a boy who is already making his own decisions. Boys like this give the simple act of loitering real meaning and purpose.
Large brown eyes looking up at him, "Mister, do you have a quarter?"
Slowly a revelation dawned on this man or that man and everything they had relied and lived by suddenly turns to ashes in the face of a pleading boy. Joey had money. His mother had just given him a twenty. The man behind him watched and when the video game ran out, he reached over Joey and put more quarters into the machine. Joey turned and looked up at the strange man. They were both expressionless realizing that there was more to this than just a few quarters. Joey said nothing and started a new game. He exercised uncommon skill in the game. He wanted to impress the man who was watching him play and he was succeeding. All boys like an audience even if it is a stranger from out of town and even if the game was a complete mystery to the stranger. It didn't matter. More quarters.
After a while, the man said, "Would you like to go get something to eat?"
Joey instinctually knew that this was a proposition but he had never put it to words to give it a past or a future. It was only of the moment. He knew that this was going to be more to this than just a meal but he didn't really think about it.
The Liberty Motel:
Joey sat on the edge of the bed looking around the small room, at the faded furnishings and peeling paint on the wall. Screwed securely to the door was a laminated sign that stated rules and regulations to be followed during your stay at the Liberty Inn.
The large man was nervous. He paced back and forth pretending to be involved with his pocket change and personal items. Finally he sat on the bed next to Joey. Joey didn't seemed bothered but he didn't look directly at the man either. Instead he looked out the window at another building across the way. When the man rested his hand on Joey's leg and then brushed against his small and almost undetectable crotch, Joey lay back and closed his eyes. This was license for the man to continue. Slowly and carefully he opened the boy's pants. Joey was already erect. He looked up at the ceiling that was also an landscape of peeling paint. He could feel the man's body next to his and he could feel that the man was trembling. The man pulled the Joey's pants more out of the way exposing a penis. He masturbated him and eventually began sucking on his small but stiff penis. It was pleasurable to Joey but both he and the man were completely detached. To the man, Joey was an overwhelming and incomprehensible object. The man may have been intensely erect but Joey never saw it or even imagined it. They were both concentrating on Joey's own fresh, erected penis with its rude foreskin delicately peeled down. It seemed as if nothing more was needed. Neither one had any idea how long this went on but suddenly the man stood up and began to gather his things to go.
"I have to catch a train."
He took out two twenties and gave him to Joey and quickly headed out the door. After that man was gone, Joey sat up, pulled out a crumpled wad of bills and counted up. Soon he was back out on the pavement walking cross-town towards ninth avenue.
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