Date: Tue, 1 Jan 2013 13:08:58 -0500
From: Sean Williams <williamscold@gmail.com>
Subject: The Nicholson Boy, Chapter 9 (Revised)

The Nicholson Boy

Chapter 9

[Edited: 1/1/2013]

	It was Halloween night and here I was sittin' in the backseat of
Brian Matheson's car when I shoulda been with Frank.  Brian didn't seem all
that excited about Halloween.  Alls he said as we pulled up to his dorm in
the Jeep was: "Let's get my Ronald Reagan costume and then we'll swing back
to your place and pick up Mr. Gordon's duds."

	"Ronald Reagan?  I thought you were goin' as George Bush?"

	"Yeah, well, the George Bush mask was sold out of the Halloween
supply store so I got stuck with Reagan.  Deal with it, Tucker."

	"Alright so you go up and get your Reagan costume, then what?" I
asked.  I looked up at the sky and I'll be damned if there wasn't a full
moon hanging up above with not a single cloud to block it from view.  "Let
me guess.  Flash Gordon pounds Ronald Reagan?"

	"Naw.  If anything Flash might drop his shorts and give Mr. Reagan
some of that ass that he's been wantin' for all these years."

	"Alright, now that just sounds weird, man."

	Matheson shrugged and We headed up to his dorm room.  I watched as
Brian put on his Ronald Reagan costume.  It wasn't much of a costume to me:
it was just this 80s broad-shouldered suit with a creepy Reagan mask, but I
did get to see Matheson's meaty ass in his jock when he dropped his jeans
to put on the suit and I guess that sorta made up for the creepy costume.
As he pulled up the pants, Matheson sorta looked back at me and winked as
he musta seen me starin' at his ass.  Man, the things I coulda done to
Ronald Reagan with my twelve inch dick...

	When he was dressed, Matheson grabbed on to his keys with one hand
and held onto his mask with the other.  After leavin' the dorm, we drove
over to my room and I changed into my Flash Gordon costume.  The whole time
as I was changin', Matheson was goin' on about how lame the Sigma Alpha
Theta party was gonna be.  It was basically the fraternity with the worst
reputation on campus, but the Sigma Alpha Thetans never had a shortage of
pledges because they had the biggest house on campus with this huge pool in
the back: a perfect stagin' ground for their legendary pool parties.  The
house had the double advantage of bein' located right on the edge of
campus, at the end of Virginia Lane, which was one of the winding campus
roads at the foot of the slope.

	The only reason we were goin' to this particular party, and not to
one of the two dozen other Halloween bashes bein' thrown all over campus,
was because Dan Fisk (outfielder, team clown, douchebag) was pledging Sigma
Alpha Theta in the spring and the president and social chair had told Fisk
that he could invite as many of his teammates as he wanted to the house for
their party.  The beer, Jack, and Johnny Walker was flowin' a plenty it
seemed.  This promised to be the party of the year but, as I already said,
I had other things to think about.  Namely, Frank.  Man, I couldn't believe
that I ditched him at the Sheriff's Office to go to some lame party with
Brian.  I was sure that by the time I made it back to the jail, Frank would
have disappeared back to Heaven or Hell or wherever the Hell he came from
and all the officers in the Sheriff's Office (including the Sheriff) would
be left scratchin their heads and wonderin' what the fuck just happened.

	But Frank would have to wait.  I still had time to hit up the Sigma
Alpha Theta party and swing back to the Sheriff's Office to figure out what
to do about Frank.  I might just have to find a way to spring him outta the
big house.  But now, Matheson and me were both in our costumes and drivin'
over to the Sigma Alpha Theta's house on Virginia Lane.  Matheson was
sayin' that there would probably be more dudes than girls, hence the
lameness, but hopefully we might find someone to cool to hang with.  At the
moment, Matheson's big thing was for him and me to have a threesome.  He
said it would be awesome for him to put his dick in a wet pussy, while I
slid mine into the chick's ass.  Naturally, these holes were kinda close so
there would be a lotta Matheson's dick rubbin' against mine or his balls
slappin' against my leg, that sorta thing.  Actually, the more I thought
about it the more hot it sounded.  Maybe this party wouldn't be so lame
after all.

	We reached the Sigma Alpha Theta house and it was real dark.  I
mean, man, I couldn't even see the costumes the other kids were wearin': it
was that dark.  Matheson decided to ditch his Reagan mask (not a bad idea)
and he put his arm around me as we walked into the party.  Soon after that,
Matheson ditched me to talk to some guys he knew and I ended up talkin' to
this sorority chick who was very confused about whom I was dressed as.

	Matheson, God love him, came back around and pulled me away from
the very confused sorority chick and said as he did it: "Come with me,
Allston.  The real party is upstairs."

	I was so outta sorts with thinkin' about Frank and watchin' all the
people in their costumes that I hadn't even noticed that we had actually
walked down into the basement of the frat house when we first came in and
not into the main level.  Matheson led me up the stairs in the back of the
basement to the first floor and as he pushed open the door, it was like
everything changed.  All of the sudden, it wasn't dark anymore.  The house
was lit up and filled with frat guys wearin' togas!  It was honestly like a
scene out of a movie I might have seen back home in Kentucky.  It was all
these muscular guys wearin' togas, grabbin' their crotches, and slappin'
their buddies on the butt.  Their togas were all perfectly white and their
chiseled pecs and abs peaked out from beneath the perfectly white fabric.

	"What the fuck is goin' on?" I asked as we walked into the room.

	"I don't know," said Matheson.  "Um... is this a toga party?"

	I didn't answer because at that very same moment I noticed that in
the dining room ahead of us there was a table laid out with the fare to end
all fares!  It was a table laid out for a king, my friends.  On this table
was not one, not two, not even three, but six stuffed hogs with apples in
their mouths.  I felt like the god-damned King of England when I saw that
and even I could only be king for a night, that would be worth it.

	"Fuck," said Matheson, pullin' me by the arm.  "Fisk didn't tell me
that this was a toga party!  How the fuck was I supposed to know?"

	"I'm sure it's not a big deal, bud," I said.

	Suddenly, the man himself, Dan Fisk, appeared beside us.  "Wait,"
said Dan.  "I thought I was supposed to be Gorbachov?"

	"You ARE Gorbachov, dumbass!  I'm Ronald Reagan."

	"Who?"

	"Ronald Reagan, dipshit.  Former president of the United States."

	"But wait, now I remember.  You were supposed to be George Bush!
What the fuck happened with that, Einstein?"

	Matheson sighed.  "They didn't have Bush at the fuckin' store,
alright?  Why the fuck didn't you tell me this was a toga party?"

	"Yeah, well obviously I didn't know it was a toga party because I'm
not wearin' a toga either, am I, Gorbachov?" said Fisk.

	"For the last time," said Matheson.  "I'm Ronald Reagan!  You're
Gorbachov!"

	Fisk told us that one of the frat members, this dude Lafferty, had
an extra toga upstairs so he was gonna put it on and then come back down to
the party.  "Yeah, good for you, Gorbachov," said Matheson.  "Go change
into your toga," and he gave Dan a rough push.  Fish scurried off.

	"Look at me," said Matheson after Dan left.  "I look like a fuckin'
idiot in this suit.  Why didn't Fisk tell us to where togas?"

	"Get over it, man," I said.  "At least you're not dressed as Flash
Gordon.  No one even knows who the heck that is."

	Matheson shrugged.

	"And, man, I still can't believe what happened to Coach Gunn.  I
mean, fuck, he was our baseball coach!  It's unreal."

	"Chill out, Tuck," said Matheson, and he put his arm around my
shoulders.  "Coach Gunn probably just got what was comin' to him."

	"How the fuck can you say that, Brian?" I asked.  "Coach Gunn never
did anything to you."

	"But from I can tell, he was a pretty fucked up individual.  I
mean, people don't just go around stabbin' other people with pokers for no
reason, dipshit."

	"Yeah, about that," I said, shakin' my head.  "I was at the
Sheriff's Office all day and nobody said anything about a fireplace poker.
How the fuck did you know that, man?"

	Matheson's eyes darted over to mine for a second and then he shook
his head and looked away.  "What're you talkin' about, dipshit?" he said.
"The deputies probably thought you already knew.  Forget about it!  Hey,
let's go into the dining room and get some grub!"

	I followed Matheson into the dining room and his mood lightened up
as, one by one, frat brothers clapped him on the back and complimented him
on his awesome "Godfather" costume.  "Cool, Godfather costume, man," said
this dude that we later learned was the President of Sigma Alpha Theta.
"Definitely an original notion," he added.

	So, yeah, Brian was feelin' much better about himself now and when
he saw a gaggle of chicks sorta makin' eyes at him from the corner of the
room, he punched me in the shoulder and told me to fend for myself.  He was
gonna dive in.  We might just have that threesome after all.

	With Matheson gone, I decided to get some grub.  As I grabbed a
plate and approached one of the pigs, I felt this sensation that there were
eyes on me.  Not a bunch of eyes, like people tryin' to figure out what the
fuck kinda costume I was wearin', but one pair of eyes.  I couldn't tell
where these eyes came from and I didn't wanna look like a weirdo lookin'
around for them so I decided to just ignore it.  I took my plate and stood
off to the side of the door.  I took a bite of the ham and damn was it
good.  I was sure gonna have to bring somethin' back for Frank and maybe
enough for the deputies, too.  Maybe they might go easier on Frank if
someone brought them somethin' to eat.

	And that's when I felt this sudden sensation of heat.  It felt like
someone had just turned the heat up in the room to a hundred degrees or put
me on a stick and roasted me over the grill or somethin'.  It was such a
sudden feelin' that I almost dropped my plate.  Thank God I didn't because
to say that I was a hungry fucker from spendin' all day at the Sheriff's
Office would be the understatement of the year.

	So, here I was holdin' tight to my plate and sweatin' like a son of
a bitch.  I looked around to try to figure out what was goin' on.  All I
could see was Matheson laughin' and carryin' on with the girls that were
makin' eyes at him before.  Knowin' Matheson, he probably was promising
them that he would put their names on the first page of his black book of
virgins.  Believe it or not, that line usually works with the chicks in our
school.  Matheson put his arm around one of the girls, this pretty redhead,
and then he tossed me a thumbs up from behind her back.

	Alright.

	Good for Brian.

	But Brian's success wasn't doing anything for this damned heat.  I
could feel the sweat trickle down my face to my neck.  From my neck, the
sweat trickled down my Flash Gordon tank and down the cleft in mmy chest to
my abs.  I suddenly felt my nipples get hard.  I could see them stickin;
out through the fabric of my shirt.  Ok, so that was just weird, but
somethin' even stranger was about to happen.  I suddenly felt my red Flash
Gordon shorts get real tight and when I looked down, I saw that I had a
hard cock snakin' down my shorts.  My cock seemed to get bigger and bigger
as I looked at it.  I had the sudden urge to reach down, grab my cock, and
just start jerkin' it in the middle of the party.

	"What the fuck?" I asked myself.

	Then I felt the eyes on me again, and here I was with a growin'
hard-on.  Drastic times called for drastic measures so I had to toss my
plate into the trash so I could use my hand to cover my crotch.  Actually,
if I had just let my huge cock show through my shorts I probably would have
gotten an invite into the fraternity that very night.

	But modesty took over, I guess.  I would have to stay in this spot
for a little while until my hard-on went down.  That's when I felt the
sudden desire to look up.  I looked up and that's when I saw him.

	Standin' across from me in the room was this dude in a leather
jacket surrounded by a bunch of frat dudes in togas.  It was like all of
these guys in togas were just listenin' to this guy and baskin' in his
presence.

	The guy was wearin' a white shirt, jeans, and the most incredible
black leather jacket I have ever seen in my life.  When I asked him who he
was supposed to be later that night he said - like he was waitin' for me to
ask: "Dean.  James Dean.  You know who that is?"

	"Yeah," I said.

	"And you're Flash, right?  Flash Gordon."

	"Yeah."

	But here this guy was, this dude in the leather jacket, just
talkin' with all these admirin' frat dudes in short togas standin' around
him.  The guy sorta leaned against the wall, he licked his lips and then he
looked at me.  Our eyes met.  My heart started to pound. I had the strange
feelin' that these eyes were the pair that I felt on me when I entered the
room.  I had the even stranger feelin' that this heat that I felt, this
heat like I was tap-dancin' on the stairway to Hell, I felt that this heat
came from this dude.  But, that couldn't be right.  That didn't make any
god-damned sense.

	I looked away, but I couldn't keep my eyes away for too long.  I
just had this urge to look back at this dude again.  I looked back at the
dude in the leather jacket and there he was starin' straight ahead: at me.
I got a good look at him and, man, was he a looker.  His hair was blood red
and cut kinda short but long enough to have this old fashioned kinda wave
to the front of it.  He had these bright blue eyes that seemed to stare
right into my soul.  It was like he knew everything about me just by
lookin' at me.  He knew that I was just a country hick from Kentucky, that
I screwed guys for fun sometimes, that I was fallin' in love with a dead
guy.  He knew that the loud baseball player at the other end of the room,
Matheson, that we had fucked.  H eknew that I had somethin' to do with the
death of the assistant baseball coach.  He just seemed to know everything.

	As he looked at me, I got a good look at him, too.  Man, did he
look strong.  I could tell that he was a really powerful guy under his
clothes, because I could see the pull of his massive pecs under his thin
white shirt.  Even the cut of his abs was visible through the white fabric.

	It was more than that, though.  There was just somethin' about this
guy that I had never experienced before.  Maybe it was the heat, but it was
also this look he had to him.  His lips were red and curved and it was like
he was temptin' me to come over and drop my shorts so that he could suck my
cock.  But it was also like he was sorta sneerin' at me.  Just this sexual
sneer.  Fuck, I didn't know what to make of it but I was as randy as all
get out lookin' at this dude.

	Time seemed to slow down and it felt like the only people in the
room that mattered were me in my Flash Gordon costume and this dude with
the blood red hair and the leather jacket.  He just kept sneerin' at me
with his lips.  I had the thought that it was Satan himself that was makin'
eyes at me and I figured that's why the first thing that I had felt was
this heat, but I shook that idea outta my head.  I guess, Matheson was
right.  It sure did look like I needed some more sleep.

	"What's up, lamezoid?" said Fisk, appearin' beside me and clappin'
me hard on the chest.  "Why do you look so damned intense?  It's just a
Halloween party."

	I shook my head.  "Oh, it's nothin', man.  That toga looks pretty
good."

	"Yeah, Lafferty showed me how to drape it.  I could get you one,
too, Allston, cuz it seems like they got a few stashed away upstairs."

	"Naw," I said.  "I'm kinda gettin' used to this Flash Gordon
costume, man.  Kinda weird, huh?"

	"Yeah, who the fuck is Flash Gordon?" laughed Fisk.  "Your ass
looks good though!  haha!" and Fisk slapped me hard on the ass, but it was
one of those jock-type locker room slaps.

	"Who is that?" I asked, lookin' over at the guy in the leather
jacket.  "Who's that guy?"

	"Oh, you mean him?" asked Dan, pointing out the dude with the blood
red hair with a head nod.  "That's Scott Danzig."  He said it like I should
already know who that is.

	"Who's Scott Danzig?" I asked.

	"He's on the baseball team, or gonna be," said Fisk.  "He just
transferred here from this school in Michigan.  Story is he's tryin' to
steal Matheson's spot as startin' pitcher."  Fisk laughed.  "Didn't you
read yesterday's paper?"

	"No, I was in the Sheriff's Office."

	"Where?"

	"Nevermind."

	"So... uh... you want me to run up and get you a toga?"

	"No, I'm alright, man," I said.  "It's kinda hot in here and I
think I might just go out for a walk or somethin'."

	"But you just got here!" said Fisk, but I really just needed to get
out.  I looked up before I turned around to leave the house and there was
this Danzig dude still starin' at me.  This frat guy in a toga - one of
those wrestler types with the wide shoulders and narrow waists - musta told
him a joke or somethin' because he nudged Danzig in the ribs and they both
started laughin'.  Danzig put his arm around the frat guy and, I swear to
God, winked at me.

	I needed to leave for a minute, just to get my head straight.  This
Danzig guy was still lookin' at me.  He was listenin' to this wrestler type
and just sorta rubbin' his shoulder but the whole time starin' at me and
lickin' his lips, like he was tryin' to turn me on.  It was workin', too.
I retraced my steps that I had made into the house and soonm found myself
out in front of the house.  There were still people in togas comin' in to
the house and people just sorta hangin' out on the lawn.

	I wanted some quiet so I decided to walk around to the back of the
house.  Maybe there wouldn't be so many people back there.  The house was
so big that it seemed like it took me a good two or three minutes just to
make it around back.  When I got to the back, it was deserted just like i
hoped and I took a seat on the steps by the back door.  I could hear the
talk and the laughs goin' on inside the house and if I peaked through a
window I could probably see what was goin' on, too.

	I didn't have too long a spell of peace because after about five
minutes sittin' on the steps, I heard the sound of footsteps comin' my way.
I figured it was Matheson comin' to look for me so we could tag team one of
these sorority chicks (probably his dream come true right after fuckin' me)
and so I prepared to stand up and say: "Alright, Matheson, I'm all partied
out.  I think I'm gonna go," but then I realized that the footsteps weren't
anything like Brian Matheson's kinda walk.  It was sorta this slow, firm
walk with the loud clap of bootheels on the pavement.

	"Let's do it here, man," said a voice comin' from about ten feet
away from me.  "I don't care who sees."

	I saw two guys standin' around the bushes close to where I was
sittin'.  One of them was wearin' a toga but the other guy was wearin'
regular clothes.  The other guy didn't say anything, but I watched as he
unbuckled his jeans, unzipped his pants, and dropped trough.  I noticed a
leather jacket and that's when I realized that this pair was the Danzig
dude and the frat guy I had seen in the house.

	After Danzig dropped his jeans and his shorts, the frat wrestler
guy dropped down to his knees.  Danzig grabbed on to his massive veiny dick
and slapped the frat guy in the face with it.  "Oh yeah," the frat guy
moaned.  "Slap me with your dick.  Oh yeah, man.  I wanna suck that dick so
bad."

	The frat guy licked his lips and opened his mouth wide to take in
the massive cock that was growin' to gargantuan size only a few centimeters
away from his face.

	The frat guy was good because within a few seconds he was takin'
the cock in balls deep.  I could hear the sound of Danzig's big low-hangers
slappin' against the frat guy's chin.  The frat guy's toga fell offa his
body and I could see muscular chest and wide back.

	I reached down into my shorts and grabbed on to my dick because I
was hard again.  I didn't care if anyone saw me because there didn't seem
to be anyone else out here besides these two dudes about to fuck anyway.
As I jerked my dick, I listened as the frat guy moaned in pleasure as he
Hoovered the massive veiny dick.  The frat guy was gettin' so into it that
he reached up and grabbed onto Danzig's muscular ass and squeezed and
slapped it in excitement.

	"Damn," I whispered as I watched this frat guy down that baseball
dick like a pro.  "This if fuckin' hot!"  It wasn't long before precum was
leakin' from my dick.

	Danzig didn't say a word the whole time: he just seemed to be
lookin' down at the frat guy wrestler that was massagin' his dick with his
lips.  He just sorta ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face
firmly.  Stuff like that.

	That's when the craziest thing happened.  I didn't think that
anybody could see me from where I was sittin', but suddenly Danzig slowly
turned his head until he was looking dead at me.  I turned around just to
make sure there was no one behind me, but there wasn't.  Danzig was
definitely lookin' at me.

	He grinned.

	Danzig roughly grabbed onto a clump of the frat guy's blond hair
and began to pound his face.  He pushed the guy's head roughly down on his
dick while he also pushed forward with his crotch.  I saw his ass flex and
relax as he fucked the wrestler's face and I started beatin' off faster.
Damn this Danzig guy had a big powerful muscle ass and he was using all his
lower body strength to pound that little frat guy's hungry mouth.

	Then I felt the heat again.  The heat seemed to magnify the longer
that Danzig looked at me.  Danzig never stopped lookin' at me.  The dude
didn't even blink.  He licked his lips.  He sneered.  Suddenly, I felt like
it wasn't the frat guy on his knees suckin' that massive dick, but me.  As
I watched the scene, I saw myself as the guy being pounded in the mouth by
this beefy outfielder.  I could feel the sensation of gaggin' on Danzig's
horse dick as he grabbed onto my hair.  I could feel my knees rubbin'
against the cold, hard concrete ground.  Danzig shoved his cock deeper in
my mouth until it was hittin' the back of my throat.

	Then, I imagined that Danzig pulled his dick outta my mouth with a
loud plop and roughly turned me around and positioned me to be fucked.
Before I knew what the fuck was happenin', I felt a fat dick push into my
ass while big hands roughly pushed me back against that same fat dick.

	That was it.  With one last jerk from my hand's I was cummin'.  The
first shot flew up in the air and landed down in my lap.  All over my
shorts.  I looked down and I watched as spurt after spurt leaped outta my
dick.  Some of it even shot so high up that it hit me in the chin.  I took
a finger and scooped it up.  Then I brought it to my mouth.  I felt so damn
horny right now.  Even though I had just finished cumming, I brought my
hand up and just sorta rubbed it under my shirt.  All over my pecs and
stuff.  I squeezed my firm chest.  I wanted to feel the touch of Danzig's
strong hands on me.  Actually, I just wanted to get fucked.  Right now.

	I wanted Scott Danzig to throw me down on the pavement and fuck me
as hard as he could.  I wanted to feel his hands pry apart my ass cheeks
and I wanted to hear the sound of his dick slappin' against my ass.  I
wanted him to shove three fingers up my ass roughly to open me up for his
dick and then I wanted him to just shove it all in with one push.  I wanted
him to fuck me hard.  I wanted to feel the whole weight of his body down
against mine as he pounded the bejeezus outta me.  I wanted to feel his
chest hair tickle my back as he pinned me down against the concrete.

	What the fuck was goin' on?

	[TO BE CONTINUED]

	[Thanks to all of you guys who have commented.  I will try to get
back to you as soon as I can!  Take it easy, guys!]