Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 13:35:07 -0800 (PST) From: don mumford Subject: Oliver and His High School's SENIOR TRIP.... fiction by Donny I think fondly of that recurring dream I use to have....I had it for a couple of years. It was pretty much the same dream every time. It's the one with my best friend Tyler and me making out. This dream always takes place in Tyler's backyard tree house. In the dream we're always the same age.... 14 years old. I knew, in the dream, that we'd been swimming in my pool before we'd climbed up into the tree house that afternoon. My backyard and Tyler's backyard are right next to each other. In those days when I was swimming, I always wore one of my brother's hand-me-down speedo swim suits and I was wearing one in the dream. He's five years older than me and speedoes were 'hot' way back then.....in his day. Now it's 'boardies'. Not for me though.... I loved to wear Christian's old speedoes. He'd gotten a new speedo each year.....for when he was 11, 12 and so on. In the dream I'm always wearing the little red one that he'd picked out years ago, when he was about eleven. When I wore that one, at age fourteen, the top of my sparse pubes just barely showed because the speedo is so small and tight on me. Actually, I liked it the best back then because it made my little cork look bigger. The dream has Tyler and me in the tree house eating some kind of a snack. Tyler finishes his first and makes a grab for the other part of mine so I jump him and we started rough housing. We were skinny boys and quick and slippery so getting each other in a real wrestling hold wasn't easy. Usually we end up with an arm around each others neck trying to squeeze hard and make the other boy "give". In the dream.... the sides of our faces are together and as we struggle our faces slide around to the front and our lips meet. Our noses bump and rub...... it's a very sexy thing. We loosen our neck grips slightly and hold our position until Tyler opens his mouth and our tongues touch. Tyler and me adjust our position to lay stomach to stomach and crotch to crotch. I'm on the bottom, Tyler on the top. We begin to kiss sweetly as our bodies slowly grind ... first grinding in little circular patterns and then slow little humpings up and down, boner against boner.....little squeaky sounds squeeze out of our throats... We have almost identical sized penises.....at that time, each about 4 1/2 inches of boner. A lot of our other parts are almost identical too and our breathing in this dream is almost identical as well. It starts out being just puffs of breath against each others face..... warm and moist as we blow out with each quiet grunt...... and then it changes to little quick bursts as we get more and more excited. And then, as our hearts begin to beat faster, Tyler scrapes his tongue against the bottom of my front teeth, then up the front of those same teeth and finally his tongue laps up the inside of my upper lip pulling it inside out. He holds his tongue against the inside of my lip causing it to push up against the front of my nose, blocking my nostrils and preventing me from breathing through my nose. Then his tongue travels right up past my lip, which slips back to it's normal spot. Lazily now, Tyler wetly laps the outside of my top lip and right up the front of my nose leaving it dripping with spit. The smell of his saliva starts my cock to twitching. We squirm together making louder squealing noises now. The make-out goes on for a while and then Tyler pushed the front of my speedo down with his hand.... catching it under my nuts which by now are hard and tight up against my stomach. He squeezes my nuts and strokes my boner as we kiss. Then, as I get ready to shoot off he floats above me while somehow still continuing to stroke my cock until I shudder and shoot a hard, long stream of cum......then I wake up. In the dream it's creamy cum that shoots out of my cock, but in real life it's pee. I pee the bed. It's messy, but the dream makes it possible for me to see Tyler again. Not only see him, but pretend to be with him kissing and what-all so even though it does end with me peeing my bed, I still think the dream is worth the trouble. My big brother and me share a bedroom and he always gets out of his bed to help me change mine as soon as he hears me rustling about stripping my bed of the peed-on sheets.. We don't even talk....just change the sheets over the rubber mat that I have on my mattress and we get back in our beds and go to sleep again. Christian doesn't even ask me about it..... I've always looked up to Christian and kind of idolized him. He's never disappointed me in anything and he never criticizes me. No matter what age I happened to be it was always fine with him if I tagged along when he and his friends were heading off to play. If one of his friends complained about the little brother tagging along, Christian always stuck-up for me.....the friend could do what he wanted, but I was coming and that was that. I took it for granted.... I just thought that's what big brothers did. The thing about the dream with my best friend Tyler is, in real life, he has never kissed me and I have never ever climaxed while he was anywhere in the vicinity. We both knew from about the time we were 12 years old that I was sexually attracted to him, although we never used those exact words. And, as for the wrestling part of the dream....we rarely wrestled because Tyler knew from experience that I'd get a boner. He was not inclined toward any form of gay activity what-so-ever. He would tolerate an occasional hug and little kiss from me as long as I didn't over do it. We stayed very best friends right up till the day he died. I didn't realize until years later how special his behavior toward me was....what with him letting me hug and quick kiss him every now and then. He did it for me because he loved me too, only not in the same way I loved him. I realized some years later that me kissing and hugging him probably felt to him the way I felt when a girl did the same things to me. It was rather repugnant....... Tyler never let on that it was a big turn-off, but he also didn't encourage me doing a lot of it either. Tyler and me often passed as brothers because we were both pretty much the same small size and had the same general features and coloring. Nothing special.... brown hair and eyes. Nice teeth and smiles. I always felt we were both kind of cute guys, but it's a subjective thing so who's really to say? It's certainly not as if anyone reinforced this concept of mine on any kind of a regular basis.... if at all. Just my opinion...... I felt responsible for Tyler's death.....completely at first and then later I saw it differently, but I was definitely partially at fault. That summer there was some sort of mosquito infestation that was causing the water in swimming pools to be unhealthy and because of this, early one morning, my Dad drained our pool. The bad water was to be replaced with fresh water so that the chlorine and other water treatments could start fresh. My Mom was doing volunteer work at our church that morning so before going to work, my Dad gave me the job to stretch the pool cover over the pool. If he hadn't been really late for work he would have done it himself. There are always "ifs" in life.... aren't there? The truck with fresh pool water was due to arrive later that morning. I had every intention of covering the empty pool as soon as I finished my computer game.... but I forgot and started a new game. It was a very hot day in August and in our house we didn't have central air conditioning. We had a noisy window air conditioning unit for my bedroom which is where my computer is set up. All of a sudden, some where in the back of my mind, I thought I'd heard a dull thud. It scared me, but my bedroom was in the front of the house with the loud air conditioner running, so I couldn't have heard a dull thud from the back of the house... could I? A freezing chill had passed right through my body causing me to shake all over. It made me jump up knocking my keyboard off my desk. I ignored the dangling keyboard and ran down the stairs saying, "NO NO NO NO NO!" and out through the kitchen to the back yard and over to the pool. I knew he'd be in the deep end. That end is closest to his yard. A large circle of blood was around Tyler's head as he lay motionless 10 feet down..... on the damp bottom of the swimming pool. He always preferred to dive into the pool and I always did a cannonball. Why couldn't we have preferred doing each others' entry and then everything would have been very different. I looked down for just a second and then walked back in the kitchen and dialed 911. I said, "the swimming pool"..... the lady kept asking what my emergency was but I'd started puking and couldn't answer her. My Mom always said that I have a weak stomach. When in doubt, I puke. That's what my brother always says...when in doubt, Oliver pukes. He was just being funny, not mean. The 911 lady could see who we were on their caller ID and she sent a fire truck, a police car and an ambulance. They're very thorough. The police/fire station is about four blocks from our house.... they arrived in about a minute. Metaphorically speaking, I'd already left by then. I was lying in my own vomit on the kitchen floor in a catatonic state. I stared into space and wouldn't or couldn't move a muscle in my body. Tyler and I did everything together....and now, at 14 years old, we did the very last thing we'd ever do together...... we rode to the hospital in the same ambulance, side by side. I'm glad I don't remember anything about that. I missed the funeral, preferring my catatonic state. Reality would have to wait. They have clever psychiatric care and medication and grief counseling so I slowly came out of my catatonic state and began to move my body and drink liquids and eventually eat solid foods again. It took two weeks or so and I think that even though the professional care was excellent it was actually my brother Christian who was mostly responsible for me returning to this world. My brother's love had always been a big part of my life and it was even more important to me now. My parents are very loving parents and I love them tons, but I love my brother more than I can say. I came out of that hiding place in my head because of the many times Christian asked me to ....and because he cried so hard for me ...and because he slept in a chair in my hospital room, with me, every night ...and because he held my hand all day.... every day. That's why I gave in and breathed the real world into my head again. I never thought of anything as I lay immobile in that hospital bed, but I heard everything. So, for Christian I woke up, so to speak..... but, without planning this ahead of time, it appeared I wouldn't actually be speaking. I was mute. It surprised me as much as it surprised everyone else. A few days after that I was allowed to go home. Over the next couple of weeks I slowly recuperated a little here and a little there and I eventually began going through the motions of living a fractured life. I had psychiatric appointments twice a week, but since I was unable to talk it was slow going. I'd nod 'yes' and 'no' and I'd write stuff on a tablet, but I wouldn't speak. When they asked me why I wasn't talking I wrote, "I don't know." Now, nobody was blaming me for the accident. They said that Tyler knew the pool was being drained as well as I did. I wrote, "Yes, but he forgot." I wouldn't hear of anyone even suggesting it wasn't my fault. I never cried about it and I never wavered in blaming myself for killing Tyler. I talked to Tyler in my head every night and told him how sorry I am that I was too lazy and irresponsible to do a simple thing like pull the plastic cover over the empty pool. I didn't ask for his forgiveness because I didn't feel I deserved it. My oversight cost him his whole life and cost me the most important person in mine. My parents filled in the pool with dirt, not water. They put grass sod over it and nobody went in the back yard except for Christian cutting the grass. Tyler's parents hired a lawyer and sued my parents...... our insurance company settled the suit out of court. Then Tyler's parents moved away. My family tried to bring me fully back to the real world, but I resisted. Christian was back to school for his senior year and even though I still wasn't talking, three weeks into the school year my parents, after many consultations with school officials, tried having me begin the 8th grade. During lunch, on the very first day, one of the kids muttered something about not going over to my house for a swim and I attacked him...my hands were tightly formed fists...my arms windmilling an avalanche of blows on him. I didn't utter a sound. I was suspended from school for a week....mostly because I wouldn't stop punching and kicking even when teachers were pulling me off him. I was returned to school after serving my suspension but a week later the same scenario occurred with approximately the same results. This time I was the one beaten up, but I still wouldn't stop swinging my fist. He broke my front tooth off and gave me two black eyes, but I kept swinging. I felt I deserved that beating and many more too. My parents pulled me out of school and increased my psychiatric care. Nothing worked and then Christian got in a fight at school with someone who called me a danger to the community. Our house was put up for sale and two months later we moved 100 miles away. My Dad couldn't get as good a job as he'd had in our old town so my Mother had to go to work too. My brother had been very popular at the old school and he had really looked forward to graduating from there with his life long friends, but instead he said, "Oliver is more important to me than what school I graduate from." Now maybe you can see how one mistake can mushroom into affecting many lives. The one mistake was not a small one, I'll grant you that, but still I was surprised at how many people I hurt or destroyed by my irresponsible neglect. It was a very big thing. I wasn't mute for nothing. Be that as it may, nobody in my family ever complained that I was a burden to them or that I was being unreasonable or that I wasn't trying..... or anything else. Every day they told me they loved me and every day they asked what they could do to help me but I couldn't think of what more they could do for me.......I still couldn't, or wouldn't talk either. Christian fit in easily and made friends in the new school. As for me, everyone involved felt I should just skip this year and start 8th grade the following school year. The guidance counselor at the new school said I was so far behind anyway that I'd never catch up. My father told her, "I'm not at all sure he couldn't catch up, but we'll follow your professional advise just the same." So I missed a whole year of school. The reason my Dad said he wasn't at all sure I couldn't catch up is because I'm very smart. So was Tyler. That's one of the many things we had in common that led us to be best friends. Neither he nor I ever received anything less than an A+ in any subject in any grade.... ever. And, we didn't even half try. We'd laugh with each other at how simple a new math concept was. We'd groan with each other at how long it took for the teacher to get the other students to grasp the concept. We were bored all the time we were in class, but we had a blast together outside class. Naturally, as we got to sixth and seventh grade some of our class mates began calling us names, like....geek, brown noser, fag, dork. Some of the kids thought we were showing them up I guess. Tyler and me would look at each other and make a face like "what could they possibly be referring to?". It was all a joke to us. We figured we'd get the last laugh eventually. Instead they got the last laugh. "The one genius killed the other genius..ha ha ha ha ha. what a couple of losers!! ha ha ha." That was the essence of the comments and I believe some of the teachers secretly enjoyed our troubles too. Tyler and me were smarter then most of them too and some authority figures have an identity problem when the kids they're in charge of are smarter than they are..... Plus, as I mentioned earlier, we were on the small side and we looked youngish and cute. The bullies had a lot of material to work with in their harassment of us, but when it was the two of us we laughed at their weak, pathetic efforts. It wasn't so funny, however, when it's just the one of us..... I eventually found this out in the new school, but that was not until many months after we'd moved. I wasn't going to school so I'd be in our house alone until my brother got home. Although I had the largest guilt complex in recorded history I still managed to jerk-off regularly and often. I always thought of Tyler. I still couldn't cry, but I could self loathe quite well. I hated myself and I hated what I'd done to ruin so many people's happiness ....including my own. So, the brief relief from my torment lasted only as long as it took to shoot my load.......then it was back to work, hating myself and day dreaming. That was pretty much it.... besides wanking and hating myself I relived the fun times I'd had with Tyler. This was my main activity...day dreaming about me and Tyler. I loved to remember his voice. Isn't that odd? Thinking about how he sounded when he talked of course, but also how he sounded when he sang. I loved thinking about him. How he looked when he got his different haircuts. He was always trying new hair styles and asking me how I liked them. I loved them all. The faces he use to make to get me laughing and the way he could make himself burp in order to gross out people at the movies or the Mall. These thoughts, as well as so many others, combined to make-up my Tyler 'day-dream life'. I hadn't yet started my night time dreams of him with us kissing and all.....the dream I mentioned earlier. That came many months after we moved. I think all the hours I spent day-dreaming about Tyler led up to the night time dreams, but all these things took lots of time and time dragged by very slowly for me..... Tyler and I liked to do things others didn't or couldn't do. For example, at age 12 we joined the youth choir at church. There were 68 kids in the that choir and only two of the 68 were boys....Tyler and Oliver. Ha ha... We loved it....being different. Of course, in this choir you couldn't just join. That was how the children's choir was, but not the youth choir. We had to audition for this choir.....anyone attending school could audition, but you really had to be able carry a tune... .you had to be able to actually sing. It evolved over the years that guys didn't bother to try out....you know, because no boys were in it, so therefore no boys tried out. What came first, the chicken or the egg. Like that ..... So it was an all girl choir until Tyler and me broke that up. They didn't want us at first, but here's the thing.......we could really sing. We knew we could because we'd been singing along with CDs ever since we were six years old and we were very good at it. But, really......we didn't take credit for being able to sing any more than we took credit for being smart. We knew these were gifts that we were born with ......that it was simply a matter of having a fortuitous mix of genes. Luck of the draw. We weren't conceited at all......we were grateful. Thinking back I remembered that one of the two best times in the choir for Tyler and me was the first Christmas we were members. We'd become accepted by that time and the girls adopted us as their 'pets' or 'mascots'...sort of. Most of the girls were three or four years older than Tyler and me. They became very proud of us and eventually convinced us to do a solo...well, it wasn't exactly a solo because there were two of us, but it was just the two of us singing and we sang the song ' a cappella' ....that is, without music. Our voices hadn't quite changed yet so we had some real good 'pipes' to use hitting the high notes..... We sang " Ava Marie ".....it's a beautiful Christmas song. Tyler and I practiced that song, on our own, 100 times at least. We sang it for the first time publicly at Midnight Mass that Christmas Eve..... about 18 months before Tyler's death. There were 900 people crowded in the church that night and yet it was as quiet in there as if it were empty. All you heard was Tyler and me singing, side by side, in perfect unison this emotional hymn with the high, dramatic notes and beautiful words......a true religious Christmas hymn. When we finished with a vocal crescendo, on a very high note, the total silence continued for three or four seconds and as I started to frown and look toward Tyler... ...everyone in that church stood up and cheered and clapped. They had been stunned by our performance. I'd never heard a cheer that loud. We were mobbed and hugged and kissed and thanked ...granted, it was mostly the older grown up types who were offering the congratulations, but there were some students too. And every girl in the choir looked proud and shared in our triumph. It was one of the two most exhilarating experiences of my life. Another one was when we sang "Amazing Grace", just Tyler and me. Again without music. This was at a Mass in memory of a priest who'd served this parish for years. No hint of scandal ever touched our parish...... this priest was generally given credit for that. I'm not sure why that was, but when he died of old age the parish had this funeral Mass for him. His favorite hymn was "Amazing Grace" and Tyler and me were recruited to sing it. Again the church was packed to over flowing and after the main funeral Mass, when his casket was being rolled up the center aisle we sand the song......there wasn't a dry eye in the house and the roar of approval at the end of the song was louder than when we did Ava Marie. Tyler and me felt like rock stars or celebrities of some sort...... All that singing carried very little weight with our peers however......in fact, it worked against us. The guys in school made fun of us and called us 'girly' queers. We didn't care....we loved the applause and we had many plans about being a rock star duo..... sooner, rather than later. I helped kill him before we could really get very far along with those plans though. I have not been back to church since Tyler's death and I have no plans to be there anytime soon either. What kind of a God would let what happened happen? Other thoughts of Tyler included his mimic ability and his perfect timing in getting me to laugh at the absolute worse times. Like in school auditorium during a serious presentation, or in church, or class or in the movies with some wicked sad scene on the screen. All totally embarrassing moments because Tyler would get me to crack-up while he maintaining a poker face. People looking over at me as I was holding my balls laughing uncontrollably..... they could see no one else around me, including Tyler, even smiling. He got me so many times....he could make a face during some situation that made me burst out laughing and he's go right back to having a serious, puzzled look on his face. He did his laughing later....recounting the incident over and over till he got me laughing again too. Fun! We were always together and almost every weekend we had a sleep over.... taking turns at each others house. Tyler was an only child and his parents treated me like they treated Tyler, as if I were their son too. I never saw them after Tyler's death. Their hearts turned to stone and they hated everyone........I don't blame them. They just sued us and hated us and then left.... none of the million things that we'd shared together carried over. I was a cancer to them. My parents were very angry with the way Tyler's parents acted toward me, but I still missed them. I missed their cat too, I missed Mrs Harris' brownies, I missed their jacuzzi, I missed all of that part of my life, I missed Tyler most of all......he was one half of me and when he died I was just a half a boy. Why can't I cry? Tyler had many funny ways of sayings things...jokes or just a funny line. He'd pick these things up from reading or he'd make them up himself. Once in English class when our teacher was going on and on about how us kids did not use correct grammar and stuff... Tyler raised his hand and when called upon he said, using absurd exaggeratedly proper English, "Ms Wagner, even if you learn to speak correct English, to whom are you going to speak it?" I thought that was hilarious and blurted out with laughter. Everyone else frowned and looked at each other. Tyler maintained a serious, questioning look on his face. Another time, out of the blue, he said to me, "Oliver, maybe there is no actual place such as Hell. Maybe Hell is just having to listen to my grandparents breathe through their noses when they're eating sandwiches." I roared with laughter because I'd eaten with his grandparents. Forget about the noises generated when they were eating sandwiches, how about eating corn on the cob....We loved his grandparents, but we also did not pretend the obvious didn't exist. They're eating habits left something to be desired. They both thought we were fabulous though and we never showed them our 'mean' side. Things made us laugh that seemed merely to puzzle others. Tyler usually said funny things in a serious voice. I remember he cracked his ankle against a heavy metal deck chair that we had around the pool and at first he just yelled, "Fuck!" And then, when the acute pain subsided, he sat in the chair and said, "Oliver, you probably don't know this, but many people believe that the shin was invented for finding furniture in the dark. Of course, others believe it was the little toe. What do you think?" I'd say something like, "Jeez, what was that, Tyler? I missed what you said because I was thinking that you should never take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night." We fell over laughing....... Oh well, you probably had to be there. The main thing is we were entertaining each other. There were lots of these exchanges all the time. Memories of Tyler swirled around my mind .... most of the time.... After nine months of therapy from the various professional health care givers and nine months of positive reinforcement and love from my parents, and most importantly, nine months of encouragement and long heart to heart talks with Christian..... I finally began to admit that I hadn't killed Tyler. The conversations with my brother were one sided because I still wasn't talking, but one sided or not they were responsible for maybe the biggest part of my recovery. I finally agreed that I was part of the reason Tyler is dead, but not 100% of the reason. I could have prevented the accident by pulling the plastic cover over the empty pool. Yes, that's very true, but I didn't kill him. Tyler forgot we were draining the pool even though this was discussed numerous times....plus, anyone could see there was no water in the pool by just looking. Even from some distance away it was obviously empty. The large pool hose that went to the main sewer drain was still sticking out at the corner of the empty pool. I was suppose to pull it out when I dragged the cover over the pool. Tyler had to be very careless in many ways to allow this accident to happen..... It was an over sight with totally unfair consequences........ but I hadn't killed him. Me agreeing that I was being overly dramatic by insisting I'd killed him was considered a major break-through in my mental recovery. It went more quickly after that and I started actually speaking....saying 'yes' and 'no' to Christian first... and then to others. One night in the dark when we were in our beds I said, "Tha... tha.. thank you for helping me, Christian. I love you." He got out out of his bed and hugged me around my neck, the sides of our faces together, and I felt his tears dripping and running down onto my face. I began to talk more and within a week I talked as much as I ever talked. This was a wonderful step, but I'd brought a stutter along with me out of my muteness. I was talking, but I was stuttering at the beginning of each thing I said. Once I got going I was OK. Odd, but a good start just the same. That's when I had the first dream with Tyler and me kissing.....it occurred shortly after I started talking again. The subsequent peeing in my bed was troubling to all, but not real surprising to the doctors. They thought that there would probably be some substitute aberrant behavior after the months of being mute was left behind. Initially they thought it was the stuttering, but now they believed it was peeing the bed. The doctors assured us that both things were temporary.... both peeing the bed and the stuttering. Just another couple of steps to work through as we worked toward a healthy mental outlook for me. Of course, I didn't tell anyone, not even Christian, that the bed wetting was a result of a dream in which Tyler finishes by jerking me off. I kept that to myself. I didn't know what to make of the stuttering. The harder I tried not to stutter, the more I stuttered. Weird!! The psychiatric people were still worried about the fact that I hadn't cried yet...that I hadn't dealt with the grief yet. On the other hand, they were encouraged when I began to get these little periods of time when I'd be furious at Tyler for his carelessness. He and I had done everything together and it seemed that we'd even teamed up to help him have a fatal accident. Being angry at Tyler wasn't something I felt very often, but this anger was seen as a step in the right direction. Like everything else, however, it needed to be discussed and analyzed till I was ready to scream! It was getting to the point where I couldn't stand being probed and questioned about every thought I had any longer. Slowly but surely the psychiatric visits thankfully came to an end. I begged to have them stop before I started 8th grade.....I was already starting it a year older than my classmates and I didn't want to be seeing a psychiatrist too. Stuff like that has a way of getting out. I wanted to try and be as normal as possible. Sadly, it didn't go well right from the first bell. Maybe if the first day had gotten off on a better note I wouldn't have been labeled a geek or a fag right off the bat. I had no luck though.... someone had found out I was a year older than everyone else. I still looked very young, I was small and I had that little bit of a baby face... ...so, being older, but looking smaller and younger, was too weird for the kids. To make matters worse, my homeroom teacher insisted on telling everyone that I had an A++ average all the way through seventh grade. That was another strike against me in the eyes of my class mates. The teacher wasn't done yet, "Isn't that great class?" She wanted me to stand-up and take a bow and give the class my secrets for getting straight A+ grades. I knew immediately that this was all wrong. I couldn't understand how this teacher could be so stupid! What choice did I have though, I half stood up real fast and tried to say that I didn't have any secrets about anything, but it came out like this, "Na na no..I da da don't have a secret." I was nervous. Shortly after that I heard some kid mutter to his buddy, "Aren't we really fucking lucky to have the oldest, stuttering, midget genius in the entire 8th grade right here in our very own homeroom" and his buddy laughed and said, "Yeah, great!... and he is definitely a fag...listen to him...for Christ sake, look at him". That was the high point of the day. It was down hill from there and when a few kids label you a loser it catches on and spreads like wild fire. Others go along with it because they don't want to be seen as backing a fag loser... god forbid! The stuttering was all the evidence they needed....it was absolute final proof that I was a geek, loser, and a homo. At first I tried to dumb it down, but my vocabulary became one of my worse enemies too. I'd hear, "What the fuck does that mean?" when I finally stutter out a word with more than four letters in it. And when the ball gets rolling...forget about it! Just about anything I did or said was misconstrued, mostly on purpose, and taken the wrong way. If I tried to ingratiate myself with one of the Alpha type guys he'd say something like, "What? are you queer for me or something?" Nothing worked so within a week I was a loner......I concentrated on staying out of everyone's way and keeping my stuttering mouth shut. And, I kept posting one perfect test score and term paper after another. This really didn't help my popularity.... to say the least. The fact is, I should have skipped the whole grade in the first place because I didn't learn a single god damn thing the entire year. No friends, and my brother was away at college..... I was unhappy and lonely. Instead of a psychiatrist I was now going to a speech therapist once a week. I played on my computer a lot. I took up jogging because it was something you could do alone.... and it didn't require talking. Also, running felt good. That 'burn' you feel when you run past your previous endurance level is a rush. Plus, it took up time. Obviously there were other kids in school who were ostracized. I wasn't the only one by a long shot, but I couldn't connect with any of them. I shunned some of those geeks myself.... so I wasn't a total innocent in this whole 'loneliness' thing. I could have hung out with some of the labeled losers, but I had some standards too. It was a lonely time in my life and that was that. During the summer Christian came home and I became his shadow day and night. He didn't baby me, but he did include me in everything he did. I got revitalized during the summer. In ninth grade I joined the track team and did pretty well but I still couldn't break into a clique of any kind. Each year there was less name calling from the "in crowd" kids and more of just ignoring me. They wouldn't bother me if I didn't bother them. I took a deep breath and tried again to form a number of friendships with labeled losers like myself, but nothing really was worth the effort. They weren't any fun...being alone was better than that. My main past time, other than daydreaming about me and Tyler, became looking for cute boys to perve over. As far as I could tell there weren't any gay guys in my school except the obvious ones.... drag 'drama queens ' and the "I'm here, I'm queer...deal with it" crowd. Way too confrontational for me. I liked guys who were guys that just happened to be gay. In all other ways they looked and acted like...well, like guys. I couldn't find even one of that kind of gay guy in the entire five years I looked for one. After ninth grade, for my birthday, my folks bought me an aluminum "Trek" road bike. It cost over $600 and it was awesome. I was intent on staying in running shape and bike riding was an excellent exercise for that. My parents were just glad I had an activity and a healthy one too. I spent time with Christian that summer but not as much as in past years. Now I was taking long 25 to 40 mile bike rides.....longer sometimes. I had a helmet and a small back pack with snacks and water and lots of free time. Oh yes, and an 'I Pod' too, for listening to the music that I loved. All types of music........ except rap. When I'd ride the bike I'd sing along with the songs and never stutter, but still when I talked I always began with stuttering. Very frustrating. I rode that bike everywhere. I had a map of our town and surrounding towns, but I still frequently got lost. That's one way to discover new places. Half way through that summer I took a bike trail that left me off at a rest stop which also served a major highway. Bikes were not allowed on the highway, but this rest stop was still a good find. Many times I'd had to pee behind a tree. Now here was a rest room for bike riders and motorist. Maybe there were other rest areas along this trail too. This might be a very good discovery. I parked the bike and went in to pee. While I was standing at the urinal a man came right out of a toilet stall and stood behind me. He said, "Do you want to come in the stall for a second so I can show you something?" My pee stream immediately dried up. I wasn't especially naive even way back then so I figured out right away what was happening. I said, "Na.. na.. no tha... thn... thanks." Then I zipped up and went to wash my hands even though I still had to pee a lot more. He lingered and said something like, "No problem, kid...that's fine. Sorry I bothered you." Stuff like that. He said it all in a very polite, pleasant tone. I looked at him in the mirror and saw a nice looking, clean cut guy about 30 or so. I realized that even though I was panicked a little....I actually really did NOT want to go in the stall with him. He was too old. I'd never thought about an older guy before this. I was 16 at the time. I left and rode down the path and finished my pee the way I usually do it, against a tree. A squirrel came up behind me but was strangely quiet. It was probably too old for me too. The next day I came back with a vague plan to see if maybe a kid around my age was hanging in the men's room. I waited an hour... only older motorist used the facilities. Two of them gave me eye to eye looks with raised eyebrows...sort of in a questioning manner. I looked away. Some of the cars stayed a long time in the parking spots which screwed up plans of me hanging around ....... so I took off. For a while I maintained hope of connecting with a kid around my own age so the rest stop became a must visit every day I rode the bike. I rode up one day and there was another bike locked in the small bike rack. Hot shit, another kid. I had to calm myself down before going inside. I wanted to be cool....like I knew the drill. I went in and saw legs in the first of two stalls. My heart was pounding as I started my pee. The door to the stall opened slowly and I heard foot steps coming up behind me. I was losing my nerve as the kid put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I'll hold that for you while you finish" and a hand came around and took my dick from my hand. It was the first time anybody but me had held this 16 year old cock of mine and I started to get hard. Than I opened my eyes and looked at the hand. It was the hand of a middle aged man with some gray hairs and bulging veins. Gasping and backing up into him I said "Na.. na... na... noooo!" and his hand pulled off my dick making my pee stream swing across the urinal wall and then on the floor. He backed away saying, "OK OK..my mistake. Take it easy." I looked around and this guy was dressed in all the tight bike riding gear alright, but he was at least 50 years old with a pot belly and gray hair. My face was red from being angry with him ....and I was angry with myself too as I ran out the door like some little kid..... jumped on my bike and rode away. There wasn't anything wrong with that man except in my eyes he was too old to have sex with. I was disappointed at my prejudice, but I couldn't make myself want to have a sexual experience with just anybody. Why was I doing this anyway? Why was I hanging out in a public toilet? It seemed perverted and, I don't know.....unhealthy? I didn't go back for a week and when I did it was more of the same. Going back to the toilet made me realize how much I wanted some bodily contact, but it looked like it was going to have to be from a boy around my own age. That is just how my subconscious mind had it set up. The need for some kind of a satisfying sexual experience got to be a stronger and stronger urge. Jerking off helped, but I was itching for a gay buddy if just for a one night stand. The rest stop did not seem to be the answer though and I was sexually unfulfilled when 10th grade started. My dreams of Tyler continued and I was still peeing the bed every time I had the dream, but the dream only occurred once or twice a month now. I couldn't figure out a meaningful pattern. It seemed to occur randomly. Because they were so infrequent I just tolerated the peed bed and continued using the rubber under-sheet. If the dreams happened more frequently I'd have considered incontinent underwear at night.....the kind that some adults have to wear all the time due to some health issues. As far as my family was concerned, the bed wetting wasn't even discussed..... it was just part of Oliver's world. In the 10th grade I got the biggest crush on a boy. He reminded me somewhat of Tyler except this boy was six feet tall. Never mind how tall he was, the crush got stronger and stronger the more I looked at him. His name was Robert and he was in my homeroom as well as three other classes. Including gym class. Oh my god, all the crazy things I went through in gym class trying to see Robert naked. It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. He had brown hair that was cut in a crew cut. One of Tyler's favorite styles. His face had a medium complexion with dark brown eyes, complementary ears, nose, mouth and chin.....all pretty much perfect. Great smile. Like Tyler. Everything he did seemed so natural and cool. I got boners just watching him...... hard, painful boners. For a while I felt guilty like I was cheating on Tyler, but even I realized how stupid that thought was. The fantasies I concocted for Robert and me got more elaborate as my crush on him intensified. It got scary for me to be so attached to a boy I'd never even spoken to. I had many day dreams of him..... during the day of course...but, I also had them while laying in bed before sleep. This took up some of the time I used to use for day dreaming about Tyler. My fantasies about Tyler and me had never gotten further than that dream of mine about Tyler and me kissing and grinding together and then Tyler jerking me off. That is the only Tyler sex acts I could make believable in my head. I tried to imagine Tyler blowing me or me blowing Tyler, but it just didn't work in my head and therefore wasn't 'hot'. Everything I fantasized about Robert 'worked' ........and I was jerking off like crazy as fast as I could make-up new stuff in my head. One fantasy was to have Robert unexpectedly show up at my house. In my fantasy, I had him ringing my doorbell after school while I was home alone. I'd act surprised he even knew where I lived. For his part he would be shy all of a sudden and get real red in the face. I'd try to put him at ease... no need to feel funny, "Why, Robert. How are you? Wonderful to see you. You look great! Come on in." He'd say that he didn't think I even knew his name. He'd confess to me that he came to my house because he couldn't hold off any longer. He was wicked infatuated with me. I'd look a little surprised again. A crush on me? Then, in the fantasy, he grabs my head with a hand on either side of my face and kisses me and licks me all over and around my mouth. Shortly he'd start kissing with his tongue in my mouth while slowly rubbing his hand over my head and all through my hair. In between the hot, passionate kissing he'd tell me how delicious I tasted and how cute I was. He would finally work up the nerve to put his hands down the back of my pants while grinding his crotch into mine. Being three inches taller than me his rock hard boner would be poking my belly button. As he was groaning and moaning and covering my face with saliva my boner would be throbbing and leaking and twitching and feeling all together better than it had ever felt before in my life! In a near frenzy he'd grope my bare bum cheeks and began fingering my hole. I would be trying to catch my breath, but in my daydream Robert was like a run away train. Once he started in on me he just couldn't stop. He kept saying how hot and cute I was and how he loved shorter boys with brown hair and brown eyes. He said he'd never smelled anyone who smelled as sexy and yummy as me and he couldn't get enough. After a few minutes he blew out a long hissing sound and humped into my belly with his boner and shot a long rope of cum in his pants moaning and sighing and swooning. The cum wet right through his pants leaving a huge stain on the front. He'd then sink down to his knees and beg me to let him suck my cock, which was like a dripping steel pipe by now. He'd undo my pants and pull out my boned up cock and swallow it right down his throat. I'd then hold his head in place and fucked his face for 10 minutes before squealing a high pitched noise, that only a bat could hear, and fill his throat and mouth with my huge creamy cum load. He'd be so hot and turned on by me that he'd pull the rest of my pants off and roughly turned me around...forcing me on my hands and knees. Spitting on my hole he'd force his latest, brand new amazingly large boner in my twitching hole....he'd push it all the way up till his huge swinging balls were smacking up against my ass cheeks. They'd make a slapping sound against my creamy white bum with each thrust into me.....he fucked me till I saw stars. We shot off together ...more huge loads of creamy cum. Then, still not satisfied, Robert would pull my head back by my hair and made me lick his dripping cock clean. We'd collapsed into each other's arms. And that's a mild example of my fantasies about Robert. All this from me, a boy who has never experienced a real gay sex moment ever in his life. Apparently that didn't matter when fantasy is involved. My cock was raw from jerking off thinking up new things for Robert and me to do. Sometimes I'd be dominate and sometimes he'd be dominate, but the sex was always rough when Robert and me did it......in my mind. We're no pussies. I was obsessed with him. I cam in my pants at school two different times thinking of a fantasy while looking at him in class. Both times I pulled my shirt tail out to cover the cum stain that soaked through my pants. Peeing my bed and cuming in my pants. I was a mess! This continued all through tenth grade and into eleventh grade. OK, enough.....I decided I had to make an effort to meet him. I found out where he lived and rode my bike over hoping to see him and start some sort of communication or conversation or something. Finally, on my forth try, I did see him walking a dog so I rode up and said, "Ha he hey, Hi...you you're in my biology class aren't you?" Robert looked up and said, "Yeah, duh! I was in your homeroom and three other classes last year too." My face got real red and hot. "O ah oh, yeah. That's right. Hi Robert." He asked what I was doing around here and I gave my planned explanation about training for the track team by doing long bike rides. I kept my reply short and to the point. I didn't want to ramble on like I do sometimes. I didn't want him to lose interest.. Apparently he was losing interest though because it didn't seem like Robert was paying any attention to me at all. He was staring at his German Shepard as it did a huge dump on someone's lawn. "Good boy, Rabbit", he said and began walking away from the steaming pile of dog shit..... totally ignoring it, and me. I rode away feeling a bit like that turd the dog just shit out. Next day Robert didn't even say "Hi" when I saw him in class. . Well, one good thing came out of that encounter and I didn't even realize it until a couple of days later. My crush for Robert was totally OVER! I didn't hate him or anything, I just didn't have a crush on him anymore. I couldn't imagine why I'd ever had one on him in the first place.... and for over a year! What was I thinking?? What the fuck had I seen in that dorky tall drink of water. The mind is a weird thing....a complete mystery to me. Robert and me were through. I hope he doesn't take it too hard. Break-ups can be painful sometimes... Christian had taught me to drive that past summer and after completing Driver Ed at school I'd gotten my license. I got to drive Christian's hand-me-down car. Not as hot or as much fun as his hand-me-down speedoes had been, but it was a 'ride'. A ten year old Toyota sedan. He'd bought it off our uncle some years ago. So I was able to get around and run the many errants that my parents came up with, I enjoyed it and loved the independence a car provides. It made me feel like I was no different than any other kid my age. Just a teenager........normal as all get out. Christian graduated college the year I graduated 11th grade. I was a senior now. I still had no one that was really a 'friend', but I talked to a couple kids that were on the track team and a couple in class from time to time. No one called me names any more, but I was still an 'outsider' as far as anything vaguely resembling an 'in crowd' was concerned. I just wanted to get out of High School and start fresh in college. I'd gotten an early acceptance to a number of Ivy League schools, but I'd decided on the University Of Pennsylvania. They had offered a 100% academic scholarship. A full boat...free ride though all four years. I still hadn't received a grade below an A+ in eleven years of school. After my crush on Robert, I'd had a couple of other crushes on cute guys but they were only useful in the short term for my own jerk off sessions. I'd accepted that I wasn't going to be able to experience a gay sexual episode until college. In college I was going to go for it. I was one randy boy! The 'Tyler and me dream' still happened every couple of months, but I was expecting them to fade away in the next year or so. I could just sense it. Something was changing in my head..... My feelings for Tyler were still very real, but after almost five years those feelings lacked the sharp edges of my earlier years of mourning. I could feel very, very sad at times thinking about all the things that he and I would have done together if he had lived. Of course, that would never have included sex together. That wasn't going to happen. Ironically I had more sex with Tyler through my dreams, because of his death, than I ever would have had if he had lived. What would we have been like?? I wondered about that often. I know my life would have been much happier with Tyler in it, but he was dead so I felt I had to try hard to move on.... I felt I was moving on.....some. By my senior year I had grown to what I was sure was my maximum height...5'9". I was pleased with that because there were some earlier years when I never thought I'd make it past 5'6". At 5'9" I was still very thin, but I had a tight body from all the bike riding and track team activities. Running keeps off the fat for sure. I was happy with the way I looked even thought apparently nobody else was very impressed. Fuck em! I still stuttered some, but a little less each month. Peeing the bed was every two months or so, but...as I said, I could feel that it was fading out. I was comfortable at school even though I wouldn't say I had any fun there. I just wanted to graduate and put this entire unfortunate High School experience behind me. Sure, I wish I could have had some fun....... but, I don't think I was depressed or grumpy or a stick-in-the-mud type guy. All would be better with a brand new start in College. On the sexual side, my latest infatuation was gay style fucking. I wanted to be fucked by some cute guy my own age. No one volunteered though.... so what to do about that? Maybe do it myself.... like I had to do everything else in my life. Hmmmm.. Buying a dildo was way out of the question, but buying a cucumber wasn't. I decided to have some fun by myself, planning this self-fuck. After some research in the produce section of the super market, I thought the 'English' cucumber was best suited to act as a boner. It has a more realistic size and shape than regular or pickling cucumbers. I wanted to do it with a condom on the cucumber so I bought some lubed condoms at the drug store. That was a story right there, but I'll spare you the details. Suffice to say it took almost two hours to make the condom purchase ...and two different drug stores. The cucumber was a much easier purchase. I did look carefully to make sure that there was no one from the drug store where I got the condoms watching me pick out a cucumber. I had bought a lot of other stuff I didn't need with the condoms purchase and I did the same thing with the cucumber purchase. Finally I was alone at home with all my stuff. Heart pounding and head sweating....I tried to calm down to enjoy my first fuck. I peeled off the plastic wrap on the cucumber and rolled the lubed condom on. I had purposely chosen a smaller size English cucumber. The cucumbers were all $1.50....large ones and small ones....... so probably me choosing a smaller one made the cashier think I was a bad shopper. That I would even think that kind of thought should give you a clue how goofy I was getting over this whole matter. I was determined to try it just so I'd get an idea of what it might feel like...that's all I wanted, just an initial idea of what it might feel like. I lay on the bathroom floor naked with my knees pulled up near my chest and reached around with the condom covered cucumber to find my hole. It was awkward but I got it there and exerted some pressure. No luck, it didn't go in with that first push. Before I could try again....... out of no where, an image of Tyler filled my mind. He had the big smile that I remembered so well and I immediately recognized the surroundings in this image I was having of him. He'd just whispered to me he wanted to tell me about this bizarre incident involving a cucumber. We were sitting in our choir robes...in the choir section of church just before Mass started. I remember I frowned at him and said, "A cucumber?" He was obviously trying not to laugh as he thought about the tale in his own mind. Although he was smiling some, he talked in a serious voice. I thought it was a true story ... in the beginning. He leaned over to me and whispered, "Oliver, I read in the paper about a doctor who had this poor bastard in the emergency room with a whole cucumber up his ass." I said, "No way!" Tyler continued, "Oh yeah...it's true. The patients wife asked the doctor how the cucumber could possibly have gotten up there. The doctor told her, "...Ma'am, your husband needs to chew his food better!" I roared with laughter and my laughter disrupted the entire Mass for a few minutes. I was led out of the choir section by one of the older girls. I couldn't stop laughing ....imagine, the wife believing her husband swallowed a whole cucumber and it went through his entire system and came out just like it went in! Ha ha ha.. Just visualizing it...the impossibility of it..... the absurdity of it....... I was laughing uncontrollably on the bathroom floor now too. Not just the joke, but Tyler telling me the joke at the worse possibly, inappropriate time. He was so funny...I was screaming with laughter as I lay on the bathroom floor......except, I didn't seem to actually be laughing. I soon realized I wasn't laughing at all. I was crying and blubbering and blowing mucus bubbles out of my nose and I couldn't stop. I heaved the cucumber against the shower curtain and it fell into the bathtub. I stood up and swung my arm across the shelf over the toilet knocking pictures and bottles of stuff on the floor. I was out of control. The tears ran down my face like rain in a thunderstorm. I'd never cried this hard as a baby or as a toddler .....not even that time I fell down the steps. I was literally screaming through my tears, "What kind of a fucking idiot dives into an empty pool. Tyler you couldn't possibly be that stupid! Why didn't you look? Why? Why? Why? Any fucking fool could see there was no fucking water in that fucking pool !" I yelled stuff and threw the bath mat and kicked at it......I wildly pulled the entire roll of toilet paper off the spindle....it lay in a pile on the floor as I ripped the towels off the towel racks and threw them around my head and, finally, out of shear exhaustion I flopped on the floor myself.... I lay there sobbing and the tears kept coming. I got a bad case of the hiccups and I couldn't stop hiccuping or crying. Then I felt that unmistakable feeling that I was going to puke. I barely got to the toilet before vomiting violently into the toilet bowel. I cried all the harder as I started in on myself by hysterically screaming with the words echoing off the bathroom tiled walls.... "Why didn't I pull that fucking plastic cover over the pool?? Why was I so lazy and stupid??..... but, still, who the fuck is going to dive in a pool that clearly has no fucking water in it?? Who? Who Who? That stupid fucking Tyler! That's who! He ruined my life!! I hate that fucker so much!!" My crying was not letting up, but my strength was. Naked, I laid on my back on the bathroom floor with tears and mucus running off both sides of my face and I continued the irrational tirade in my head...too weak to say them out loud any longer. Then another thought drifted in....I'm having a god damn nervous breakdown or some such shit! I'm going crazy! I've lost my fucking mind. These thoughts slowly brought me back to the boundaries of reality... the edge of sanity. I calmed down some and lay there quietly sobbing.....testing my state of mind. When I thought of my remark about "Hating Tyler" I began crying harder again and I blubbered out I was sorry....that I loved him...I didn't hate him. The crying built up again. I was too weak to do anything but lay there and cry. I felt so sorry for myself. Then I felt so sorry for Tyler. I tried to imagine how different my life would have been...how much more fun I would have had, if only that accident hadn't happened. I sobbed and groveled and cried for a half hour more and then fell asleep right there on the floor. It was the last week of winter and so when I opened my eyes it was dusk outside....dark in the bathroom. I knew immediately where I was and what I'd just experienced. My watch read 5:30pm....I'd been in the bathroom almost two hours so I must have slept for more than an hour or so. I didn't have the feeling I was about to start crying again so I slowly pulled myself up and turned the light on. I felt like I was in a trance and without thinking very much about anything I spent 20 minutes cleaning up the bathroom. The last thing I did was wrap the cucumber and condoms in newspaper and put it all under other trash in the middle of the trash barrel. I took a long shower. I drank two tall glasses of water and then wrote a note to my Mom. She gets home from work first. I told her I loved her......I couldn't think of the proper way to describe my feelings. Best not to even try...it might worry them even more. I told her I had the flu or something and I didn't feel well so I was going to bed and sleep right through until tomorrow. I wrote again that I loved her and Dad very much. What to do next? My head ached like mad so I took three Tylenol and I went to bed. I was exhausted .... thinking about my tirade again I got weepy and then I dozed off. Some time later I thought I heard footsteps coming up the stairs....... I knew it would be my mother looking in on me. The next conscious thing I noticed was the steady sound of rain. I thought, "I'm glad it's not snow because if it was I'd have to shovel it." Then I remembered the previous afternoon and my breakdown or whatever it was. The clock read 6:00am which means I been in bed for twelve hours and I'd slept through most of those twelve hours. I got up and got dressed for school. I needed food so I ate two large bowls of cereal and drank two large glasses of orange juice. No one was up yet. My mind was in neutral, but I knew something important had changed. I knew I was never again going to see Tyler in our dream together. I bit my lip and big, fat, warm tears rolled down my face, but it only lasted a few minutes. I thought in my head, as if I was sending a message to Tyler.......I thought, " I'll never love another person as much as I loved you, Tyler. No way! Never" ....I also said to him, in my mind, that "I'll never forget you, but I have to put you in a special place in my heart and then start to make a life for myself......" I was 19 years old and it was two months till I graduated from High School. And good riddance to it...too! I pulled my self together and went to face the world again. There were two main items left to get through and I'd be done with 12th grade and High School forever. I was valedictorian so I'd have to give a speech at the graduation ceremonies. At first I was going to take that opportunity to give a scathing account of uncontrolled bullies in our High Schools who were ruining the High School experience for those students not deemed worthy to be part of the "in crowd".....and the teachers and the administrators who did nothing about it. And so on. But, in the end I wrote a speech of optimism and opportunities and challenge. Exceed your dreams.....and that kind of drivel. Maybe one, just one student will think...fuck, why was I so mean to that kid? Just one..... The other thing is the Senior Class Trip. I wasn't going to go, but it turns out to be three nights in Philadelphia. Philadelphia is where University Of Pennsylvania is located. The college I'm going to in the Fall. I'd seen the campus on a two hour tour, but I wanted to roam all around it on my own. You know....while the students were still there and just see what I could see. Maybe check out if there are any openly gay activities..... or, who knows what. I had a few fantasies of a Freshman noticing me and taking me to his dorm room and fucking me all night long....or at least taking me out for coffee and talking to me. The one huge hangup was the "buddy system" for rooms. Buddies could stay together. Most of the rooms were for four, but a limited number were for two guys. I wanted to have a room for one, of course....there were none of those. Guys, like me, who didn't have a particular person who we wanted to bunk with were listed on a sheet and assigned alphabetically as room mates. Then these guys switched around with their assigned guys until I was the last one left. Yep. There were 381 students going and I was that '1'. No room mate. So, guess what. Even worse! I had to share a room with one of the chaperons. The hits just keep on coming. A week before the trip Mr Degenerate called me over as I was walking down the hall. He told me I was the lucky guy who got to share a room on the trip with him. He was trying to be funny and a good guy I guess. He is a first year guidance counselor....one year out of college. I'd talked to him a couple of times and he seemed real nice, real helpful. Very youthful looking guy with a ready smile and something nice to say to everyone. I could have got a lot worse. He squeezed the back of my neck and said, "Don't seem so thrilled, Oliver!" and then he chuckled a little. He said, in a conspiratorial voice that he'd gotten us a room with a double bed AND a pull out sofa. So we'd each have our own bed.......he hesitated and added, "If we want our own bed." Another laugh and squeeze on my neck and he was off to spread good cheer elsewhere. I realized my face was kind of scrunched up....I was puzzled about something.... Oh well, a week to go until the High School Senior Trip is on, then a little bit more High School and then my life begins.... conclusion soon..... fiction by Donny