Date: Sat, 23 Feb 2002 17:52:14 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: Tommy Series (Returning Home - Revised) Chapter 1 Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternality sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ Tommy Returning Home By Tom Cup CHAPTER 1 We were supposed to be in Germany for four years. We weren't. Mom and I flew back to the States two and a half years later with a folded flag and Dad's remains. I'm still not sure what happened, some kind of explosion. Needless to say, our lives were pretty screwed up. Keith and I wrote each other almost every week after I left for Germany but gradually our letters became fewer, until they stopped all together. I missed him now and wanted to get in touch with him. I tried calling him after Dad was killed and got no answer. Later, I learned that his family had moved. It would be years before we ran into each other again. I was sixteen. Mom consulted me on where we'd live. At first, I wanted to move back to the old neighborhood. But mom said that would be too hard on her, seeing the old house and familiar places that she and Dad had gone to together. After thinking about it, I agreed. There were a few things about the old neighborhood that I didn't want to remember either. So we moved into an area some thirty minutes away. We were close enough to visit the old neighborhood and yet far enough away to start a new life. After we settled in, I contacted Shelly. I was sad to hear that her husband had died also. She told me that she had been thinking of selling the fishing lodge. I was horrified but she assured me that she had changed her mind. She decided instead to turn it into a campground. There were 40 acres and it was zoned commercial even though it had been kept as a private getaway. The chief problem was that she was having trouble finding someone to run and maintain the up-keep of the place. She could only offer the cabin as a living quarter and a small stipend to whoever took the job. As we talked, I became excited about the possibility. I asked her if she thought I could do the job. She answered, "I was hoping you'd want to do it. It'll be nice to have family running the place." That's how I wound up on the motorcycle that once belonged to Mr. Steel, heading to the fishing lodge that he once owned. It's also how I met Brian. ***** Brian was thirteen. I spotted him almost at the same time he spotted me: blue-black hair (not dyed, just naturally that way when the sun shone on it), blue eyes, tight jeans and a t-shirt two sizes too small that revealed his flat stomach, narrow waist, and a rose carved belly button. He stood leaning against a lamppost. I slowed my bike just to get a better look. It was as if time moved in slow motion. I watched him watch me until I circled back and stopped in front of him. "Nithe bike," he said with a slight lisp. Why did that turn me on? "You waiting for a bus or something?" I asked taking a good look at the way his pants clung to his body. "No just bored," he said almost shyly, "Just watching people go by." "You want to take a ride?" I posed. "Where too?" he asked. "I'm heading for the Steel campgrounds. Just 15 minutes from here. I can get you back before dark...sooner if you like. So you want to go?" He nodded vigorously and slid in on the bike behind me. ***** Brian had never been on a motorcycle before. His fear showed through immediately as I revved up the bike and started off. He threw his arms tightly around my neck nearly chocking me. I calmly told him to put his hands around my waist. He wrapped his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder. Mr. Westenberg was the last person I had been with sexually. Memories of him, Keith and Mr. Steel, along with my own skilled masturbation, sustained me in Germany. I hadn't even thought of how much I missed touching, and being touched, by another male. But the feel of Brian's hands on my stomach, the warmth of his cheek on my shoulder, and the hardness between his legs that stabbed against my back each time the bike hit a bump, reminded me of the longings I had buried deep inside myself. We arrived at the lodge a little passed 11:00 in the morning. I found the key under the mat as Shelly had said. Brian was in awe of the place, just as I had been when I first visited it with Mr. Steel. The only changes that I noticed immediately were the lot numbers and where Shelly had put in a septic dump. She had done a good job at making sure the place was functional for RV'ers without destroying the natural beauty I loved. Most of the lots were on the far side of the lake. I did notice that a few trees, on the far side, had been cleared, providing private lots for those that wanted them. The dock, I was please to discover, was still unobstructed. Mr. Steel's boat was still tied where I had seen it last. I found tears beginning to well up in my eyes as memory after memory flooded back to me. I was deep in thought, finally admitting to myself that I would never get over Mr. Steel, when Brian came running up behind me yelling that the phone was ringing. We raced back to the house. I let him beat me for two reasons: one, it made him happy and his happiness filled me with a warm glow and two, because I loved watching his ass as he ran in those tight jeans. It was Shelly calling to give last minute instructions. The first reservation would be arriving in about two days. "Have you been in the bedroom yet?" She asked. "No, I was checking out the grounds. You really had a lot of work done." "So what do you think?" she asked. I could tell that she really was excited to share the place with me and wanted my opinion. "I really like it. I mean, when no one is here it is as if nothing has changed." "I am so glad to hear you say that," I could hear the relief in her voice, "Ron would have hated turning the place into a business but really the taxes were killing us. This way, the place pays for it's self and we can schedule times when only family can use it. I think we get the best of both worlds." I agreed and she went on to explain how we were to run the day-to-day operations. The bedroom door now had a sign on it that said "Office." Nothing much had changed in the bedroom except that there was now a laptop computer, hooked to a portable telephone, check verification system and credit card machine. Shelly explained how it all worked and was happy to hear that I felt comfortable using the equipment. "So I guess that's about it," she said after explaining everything at least twice. It didn't bother me. Who else is going to give a sixteen-year-old kid the chance to run a business? "OK," I said to reassure her, "I'll run the credit card batches every night. The checks and cash I'll deposit in the after hours box at the bank if I can't make it there by seven. I won't forget." I could almost feel her smiling her approval of me over the phone as she said, "I love you Tommy." "I love you too, Aunt Shelly." It was the first time that I'd called her "Aunt." Her choked `good-bye' showed her approval. Brian was staring at me strangely when I hung up the phone. His head was tilted toward his left shoulder, there was a sparkle to his eyes and a impish smile on his face, his hair swept lazily down partially covering his right eye giving him a puppy dog look as he stared up at me. "You get to stay here the whole summer by yourself?" he asked blushing slightly. "Yeah." "Can I stay with you?" Brian asked bashfully. "I don't know. I hate the whole dealing with parents thing." "You wouldn't have too," Brian said quickly, "its just Mom and Mom don't care. She don't want me around." Brian's eyes begged me to say yes. He went back to the tilted head pose that he was in when I hung up the phone. He looked so cute, innocent and sexy all at the same time. I was about to answer when Brian added, "I'll do anything. I can work real hard. I can clean and stuff. I...." "OK. OK," I interrupted, "If your mom says its OK, it's fine by me but you have to ask her." The phone call to his mother was "short and sweet." Brian spoke over the speakerphone to let me hear her answer. I felt sorry for the kid. She made it clear that she could give a shit. She didn't even know why he had bothered to call. To her, he was wasting her time. "See," he said after the call ended, "Told you she wouldn't care." "Do you want to go back and get some of your stuff? I mean, some other clothes?" "Naw," he answered. He never said it but I understood then that he was wearing his best clothes. It wouldn't be worth it to go back and get any of his others. I decided to let him wear a few of my things until I could get into town and pick up a few things for him. I gave him a pair of my shorts and a shirt. They were to big for him but it added to his cuteness. He stripped in front of me with no inhibitions. I admired his body. It reminded me of my own sexual awakening and my experimentation with Keith. He smiled when he noticed me staring at his near nude body. I smile back unashamed. He was a beautiful boy. When he finished dressing, he hugged me and thanked me for the clothes. "I hate looking like a freak all the time." "You don't look like a freak," I countered a little shocked, "You're cute." "Naw," he said blushing, "Brian the freak...that's me." I hugged him closer and he held me tight. "You're not a freak to me," I said kissing him on the forehead. He looked up into my eyes and smiled. We nestled together rubbing noses until I heard his stomach growling. I suddenly remembered what I had forgotten to do. We got on my bike and headed back to the small diner just outside of town. I didn't really eat much. I had too much fun watching Brian eating, laughing and just being happy. ************************************************************************ You'll find my newest writings at http://tomcup.iscool.net. I also recommend visiting these sites: Boyztown - Gay Pictures and Stories http://www.boyztown.net Girlztown - Lesbian Pictures and Stories http://www.girlztown.net Eroscities - Featuring the writings of Richard Dean http://www.eroscities.com Alternative Lifestyles of Youth - Advice, commentary and Youth Related Stories http://www.anysexuality.com All my best, Tom Cup "Why is it that the words we write for ourselves are so much better than the words we write for others?" Sean Connery as William Forrester in the film "Finding Forrester."