Date: Sat, 6 Dec 2008 12:27:33 -0800 (PST)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: A SHY BOY'S STORY Chapter one (the boss)    by Donny Mumford

Shy teens have a more difficult time getting along then most, I saw then in
high school and even in my neighborhood growing up and I wish I'd extended
friendship towards them back then... if only I could do some things over in
my life... wouldn't that be nice for all of us.  Here's chapter one of
five.


			 ... A SHY BOY'S STORY...

			  Chapter One (the boss)


There's something about me that attracts bullies, so much so that it's
almost comical.  Its not like I'm paralyzed with fear about it or anything,
but it has been a huge pain in the ass over the years.  The bullies almost
always call me names insinuating that I'm homosexual.  Familiar names like
homo, fag, queer, fairy...  all those.  A more sophisticated bully even
called me a smurf, and later, a twink.  I had to Google them to be sure,
but I kinda knew what they meant.  I make light of it, but seriously... how
can it be that these neanderthals consistently assume I'm gay?  That's my
question.  Actually, my question should be... how do they KNOW I'm gay?  I
didn't even know until two years ago. Well, I wasn't sure I was gay until
two years ago... that's a more accurate statement.  I was suspicious that
maybe I was leaning that way, but not positive or maybe I just wasn't
willing to admit it to myself.  In any case, the thing about me and
 bullies is I'll try to avoid confrontation by absorbing quite a bit of
verbal abuse, but when it comes to physical abuse I draw the line.  I'm not
afraid to fight when I need to and through my teen years I have been in a
number of fights.  Never "won" even one of these fights, but I've certainly
been in them.  With the kind of fighting I'm referring to, neighborhood or
school yard fighting, even the so called winner gets hurt, its just that he
isn't hurt as much as the so-called loser.  I do not enjoy getting beat up
because it's embarrassing, and it hurts.  But, you know... it can get to be
a real shitty situation being picked-on constantly so once in a while I
just drop everything and start swinging, kicking, scratching, biting,
spitting, kneeing, stomping, or whatever. I don't go in for style points,
I'm trying to hurt him more than he hurts me... and I'm trying really hard
too.

The thing that convinced me I was gay had nothing to do with
bullying... well, not directly.  It happened quite unexpectedly actually.
A boy named Charlie La Russo kept me in a full-nelson wrestling hold for
five minutes, exerting pressure on the back of my neck forcing my arms
painfully backward, you know how that works.  He did this because he wanted
me to blow him and I didn't think I wanted to. Finally, on the verge of
tears, and not wanting to cry, I did blow him and discovered I liked doing
it.  He had a really nice dick.  We were in Charlie's recreation room at
the time this happened... he was my best friend.  We'd been looking at porn
on his computer... men and women fucking; that kind of porn. After a while
Charlie started acting weird... breathing hard and, with his hands in his
pockets he was excitedly playing with himself... like that.  I chuckled at
him, but my shyness prevents me from commenting on very many things.  I'm a
 quiet boy.  Charlie was getting red in the face and soon he resorted to
wrestling with me which was unexpected, but which I preferred over watching
the porn... it was gross and making me feel ill.  One thing led to another
and I ended up in the full-nelson hold with Charlie insisting that he knew
what I wanted.  He was convinced that I wanted to do what the lady had done
to the fat man's cock in the video.  Like I said, I gave in eventually and
after sucking and licking Charlie's nice dick for maybe five minutes I made
him cum. Charlie was creating big noisy breathing sounds through his nose
right up until he shot his creamy load in my mouth.  He took control of his
cock at that point and stroked it fast, shooting another spurt of spunk on
my upper lip and a little bit went up my nose too.  He grabbed a fistful of
my hair with his free hand and said, "Swallow it all, Elliot!  ... lick it
off your lips too, and suck the head of my big cock clean.
 Do it!"  He actually didn't have a "big cock", but as I said I liked
sucking it whatever it's size so I did what he wanted and when his cock,
still hard, was shiny clean with my saliva glistening on the head of it, he
said, "I fucking knew you were queer... I just knew it, and now I got me my
own personal cock sucker... don't I, Elliot?"

That was over two years ago in Atlantic City, New Jersey where we lived at
the time.  Charlie black-mailed me into blowing him once or twice a day
from then on... you know, or he'd tell everyone I was queer.  I guess we
weren't really best friends after that.  In hindsight we probably never
were best friends... I'd just hoped we were because I wanted to have
one. That happened just before I turned sixteen years old so you can see
why I agreed to blow him.... where I come from, sixteen year old boys don't
cry.  Not in front of other sixteen year old boys anyway, so I gave in to
his wishes.  My family moved from Atlantic City to Salem, New Hampshire six
months after I became Charlie La Russo's personal cock sucker and, wow!
was he ever monumentally disappointed about my Dad's transfer.  I was a
little disappointed too because I liked blowing Charlie and also because
he'd begun hinting around that he might consider fucking me in the near
 future.  I didn't say anything to that at the time, but my dick got hard
thinking about it. The last time I sucked Charlie off was the last time I
had sex with anyone other then myself.  After almost a year and a half in
New Hampshire my Dad got another job transfer, this time to Framingham,
Massachusetts.  That's where I live now.  So do the math... I haven't been
Charlie's personal cock sucker for more then eighteen months now and I'm
still waiting for someone to fuck me... zero progress in that regard.  Over
eighteen months since I've tasted Charlie's average size, but really yummy
cock... nice nuts on that kid too.  Oh well, life can be frustratingly
disappointing at times.

We've been here in Framingham almost a month and so far only one bully has
discovered my presence, but the word will magically spread I'm sure.  It
did in Salem where I had a number of losing efforts, fight-wise.  No fights
here so far though, so that's a nice start. Something will probably develop
though because I'll be starting my senior year at Framingham High School in
about a month and there are sure to be the usual group of bullies just
looking for some shy kid like me to pick on.  In the meantime, to keep
busy, I'm working full time at the Super Stop and Shop which, in case you
don't know, is a large grocery store chain. My job there is a minimum wage
one bagging groceries and rounding up shopping carts in the parking lot and
grunt work like that.  I'm working under the direction of a twenty-five
year old supervisor who himself started out as a bag boy and worked his way
up to his present "boss" position.  Boss of the part-timers and
 summer help.  His name is Todd White.  Let me tell ya, he doesn't look
twenty-five years old, he looks like a teenager and I have a secret crush
on him but since I don't say much I'm not sure he even knows I work for him
at this point. Obviously a twenty-five year old guy is too old for me, not
to mention the little matter of him being straight, but all-the-same I got
a tiny bit of a crush on him.

I haven't made any friends here, but it always takes me quite a long time
to do that, that's if I'm successful at all.  In New Hampshire I never
actually made what you'd call a friend.  As I've said... I'm shy, quiet,
and after that Charlie La Russo friendship I'm a little cautious too.  My
younger brother Raymond is the opposite of me.  He makes friends easily and
as far as I know nobody calls him a fag or any of those other names I get
called. I'm pretty sure he's never been anyone's personal cock sucker
either.  Ray, who has recently told me to call him "Raymond" is sort of a
bully himself.  I've given up complaining to Mom and Dad whenever Ray acts
like an asshole because they think Raymond can do no wrong and is destined
for big things.  He's a big prick, I know that, so maybe they're on to
something there. I've felt like the odd-man-out in our family for years now
so needless to say there has been no mention to them about my little
secret,
 the gay thing I'm referring to here... I'm deep, deep, deep in the
way-back area of the closet.

Mom's a real go-getter and our first day here she secured a nursing job at
the hospital for herself.  That led to her making a friend that knew
someone who knew someone who could get me the aforementioned full time
summer job here at Stop and Shop.  Then, as if she hadn't accomplished
enough that day, Mom also located a part-time teaching job for Ray.
Teaching "drum" to middle school students who were moving up to high school
this year and who wanted to be in the drum section of the marching
band. Dad's a sales representative for a cardboard box company and travels
around a lot to all the New England states. With both parents working, Ray
and I are often left to take care of ourselves which isn't a big deal for
an eighteen year old and a sixteen year old except we don't get along too
well. Ray and me have always been oil and water.  The concept of brotherly
love to us, is merely a rumor.  Fact is Ray calls me a queer once in a
while himself,
 just like the other bullies do... not that Ray actually thinks I am one.
I don't act or talk or walk or dress like a queer is suppose to act, talk,
walk and dress and I've never known one... a gay person I mean. Unless
Charlie was one.  Nah, he wasn't... he's just a horny bully who couldn't
get a girl to blow him so he recruited me.  I don't act like a gay guy, and
I'm OK in sports... I don't throw like a girl, and I've never done ballet
or dance of any kind, I don't read much, I've never seen a broadway play
and have no desire to, so how come the bullies call me fag and homo and
queer and all that?

Well, I'll tell ya why I think they do... it isn't anything I do or say,
it's how I look. I'm slim and very young looking for eighteen years old,
and I have long hair. My fucking wrists are so thin you wouldn't believe
it, that's always pissed me off but it's just one of many things about my
looks and my body that pisses me off.  I'm five feet six inches tall, so
that's another thing, and my lips sometimes look like there's some lip
gloss on them, but I swear to God there isn't.  My lips are a little puffy
and very rosy, which I hate.  I don't suppose my light red hair is a very
macho color either, but for christ sakes is any of this shit my fault?  Oh,
by the way, the reason my hair is long is a really goofy reason.  That
shyness factor I mentioned... well, I'm intimidated by barbers.  They can
be so gruff, and I had a terrible experience with one, and anyway I never
know what instructions to give for a haircut, so I just don't go to
 barbershops.  My hair hangs down to my jaw and is long enough to reach
over my collar in the back.  Every six months or so I get scissors and cut
around the ends myself.  It's required by the way that I pull my hair back
into a ponytail for work at Super Stop and Shop.  I have a lot of very fine
hair actually, quite wavy too so it sometimes attracts unwanted
attention. This fear of barbers goes back to when I was eleven years old, I
use to stutter back then.  A barber mocked my stuttering when I tried to
say, "buzz cut"...  it came out "ba ba ba buz baba".  The old barber
laughed and laughed, imitating the way I'd said it.  I can still see that
braying fat slob with his mouth open wide, guffawing like a jackass... all
those big yellow horse teeth. UGH!  Back then my face almost burst into
flames from the humiliation of it all. Ray came close to peeing his pants
from laughed so hard right along with the barber's mocking of me, which
encouraged the
 barber to keep it up.  They kept it up until I jumped down off that old
style barber chair and ran out of the barbershop.  I haven't tried another
barbershop since.  I managed to cure myself of stuttering a couple of years
ago although it wasn't easy.  Even though I rarely stutter now, because of
the past stuttering, I'm a boy of very few spoken words as I mentioned
earlier.  I've inherited my unfortunate physical attributes from my
mother's genes... the wrist and hair and all.  Also, like her, I have a
pale complexion and pale green eyes and... oh, what's the use.  My overall
"look" isn't what you'd call masculine, let's leave it at that.  But, those
physical things don't make a person gay... it's a fucking coincidence that
I look like this, and that I'm also gay.  Of course, my brother Ray takes
after dad's genes.  Ray's already three inches taller then me, twenty
pounds heavier, with dark unruly hair and brown eyes and stuff like
that. He's a
 guy's guy, I guess you'd say.

The story is told that my mother had been wishing hard to have a girl while
pregnant with me and when she first saw me after delivery, her initial
reaction was... "She's beautiful!". The delivery room nurse said, "Your
baby's beautiful alright, but it's a he, not a she," Oh God.. do Mom, Dad,
and Ray have a good laugh over that story about every other week.  I've
always felt that Mom has been disappointed with me from that day
onward. Still, that doesn't make a person gay, does it?  I was born gay and
my looks are what they are, I have little to do about them.  Some gay guys
are as macho looking and macho acting as any straight guy can be and then
some other gay guys look more like I do, that's just the way it is.  I
learned about that on the Internet where I look up gay sites and get
information about gay things.  I go there for other kinds of general
information about everything else in life too.  My number one objective in
the area of "gay
 things" though is to find boys my age fucking each other on videos. I like
to jerk-off watching them do it. That's my dream, my quest in life is to
feel what those boys on those videos feel when they're getting
fucked. There are some wicked cute, hot boys fucking each other in videos
on boys4boys.org.uk, a hot site where I go quite often... and oh my, does
it ever appear that they love getting fucked.  I crave it now myself,
getting fucked I mean.  So far, Charlie in Atlantic City, eighteen months
ago, talking about it is as close as I've come to having it done to me.

Lately I've been finger fucking myself while I jerk off and it certainly
increases my climax.  Boy does it ever, but a finger isn't very big around
so trying to make it more real, I've experimented by putting cheap condoms
on things like small cucumbers and then slowly pushing them up my ass and
fucking myself that way.  I'm pretty sure I've located my prostate because
it feels like I'm going to cum just pressing around that certain area.
Recently I've had dreams that Todd White, my boss at Stop and Shop, is
fucking me in the produce section of the store.  I have what's called a
nocturnal emission during those dreams.  I cum in my sleep in other
words. Nocturnal emission is another thing I looked up on line.  Looking
things up 'on-line' is something I do a lot because I don't have anyone to
talk to about stuff.  Charlie La Russo was my last "friend" and that didn't
work out too good for me as far as a friend goes.  OK, I admit it, I'm
lonely.
 And horny.

Framingham is a big town in Massachusetts, occupied mostly by working class
families.  We live in a six room ranch-style house, which is to say a one
floor house.  Ray and I have our own bedroom, thank God. The disappointing
thing about our new house is that there are no kids in our neighborhood my
age. Ray was luckier and already has a three man posse for himself. He's a
marching band member at our old high school... snare drum is his
instrument, so he attended summer band camp for our new school the week
after we moved here and met those new buddies of his there.  I don't know
the names of Ray's friends yet, but the big heavy-set kid has his own
beat-up car which means Ray and the other two are always out driving around
town.  That's fine with me. Having Ray in the vicinity isn't a lot of
chuckles.  If he isn't insulting me verbally he does it physically.  He
does these pinches where he gets a little of my flesh between his thumb and
index
 finger and squeezes like mad.  Fuck! does that hurt.  He goes, "Elliot,
did you use my CD player?" and follows up the question with that little
pinch on my side or ass or arm, wherever... It hurts like hell.  He's
always saying, "Get a fucking haircut Elliot or we'll all start calling you
Ellie". I don't usually say anything except yelp at the pinches, but I do
have that limit of what I'll put up with physically so we fight a lot,
especially when he and I are home alone together.

Today at work my boss, Todd White, asked for a volunteer to help reorganize
files in the dusty basement.  No one likes to go down there, but because it
meant working with Todd I had my arm up and Todd goes, "Uh, ah... yes,
you. I'm sorry, I don't think I know your name."  We hadn't changed into
our Stop & Shop work uniform yet so I didn't have my name tag on.  I go,
"It's Elliot Ellis." Todd looked from one kid to another with a quizzical
expression and the kid standing next to me, who's even shorter then me,
says, "He said his name is Elliot Ellis" and Todd goes, "Right!  Good! OK
Elliot, you'll work with me this morning". One of the boys, the one who
constantly grins at everything that's said, made a face toward me and
commented to a real tall string bean of a kid, "A low talker"... he meant
me. That's a reference to a Seinfeld comedy show routine. The smiley kid is
OK I guess, but grinning that Cheshire cat grin of his all the time seems
to
 imply he's either smarter than anyone here or much, much stupider. I
hustled into the changing room and put on my yellow Stop & Shop shirt with
my name tag clipped on the pocket and was out looking for Todd in a flash.
Didn't see him at first and then I saw him outside smoking a cigarette so I
wandered outside to ask, "Uh-ah, should I do something until you're ready?"
He leaned toward me when I spoke, listening intently trying to hear what I
was saying, shook his head 'no' and said, "Sorry that I didn't know your
name in there, Elliot.  And, no, you don't need to do anything except keep
me company right now...  by the way, thanks for volunteering.  No one much
likes the basement, but you and I will make quick work of it today.  Have a
seat here on the bench."  He was standing, leaning up against the side of
the building, but I sat on the bench like he told me to.  Todd has the
whitest teeth and pinkest gums I've ever seen... his mouth looks
 so clean and new.  I stared at him as he looked out toward the highway.
When he exhaled, the smoke caught a slight breeze and that second-hand
smoke drifted past me... I tried to inhale it.  I wanted to inhale the same
smoke that had been inside him... in his mouth, throat and lungs.  I wanted
it in my mouth, throat and lungs too, but when I inhaled it I coughed and
Todd immediately apologized, "I'm sorry Elliot, that blew right past your
face, didn't it?  I really want to stop this habit, but I haven't had much
luck yet.  I have a hard time breaking bad habits. Christ... I've been
smoking since I was a teen.  You ever smoke?"  I shook my head 'no' and
Todd smiled at me so warmly I sucked in my bottom lip and stared at the
ground.  He's so handsome, but in a boyish way... he can't be twenty-five
years old, no way.

Looking out the side of my eyes I saw him still gazing straight ahead again
so I took the opportunity to look at his face some more.  His skin is so
fresh looking, it looked like he just scrubbed it... everything about him
looks sparkling clean. Medium complexion, a round birthmark high up on his
cheek which was so sexy and cool, and he has the sexiest nose too.  I know
that sounds weird, but his nicely shaped sort of ski nose has triangle
nostrils that flared ever so slightly as he exhales.  He excited me just
looking at him.  His lips were normal bow shaped lips but, I don't know, he
just made me dizzy with desire.  I thought he was perfection.  Short dark
hair always neatly combed, cut just above his perfectly sized ears, his
left ear had an earring stud which made me want to get one in my ear just
like his.  Todd wasn't real tall, probably five foot ten inches and
slender.  I wanted to hug him around his slender waist and beg him to fuck
me,
 but I didn't.  He asked, "What grade you going into, Elliot?" and when I
told him he was astonished that I was a senior.  He said, "We're alike in
that regard, we both look awfully young for our ages, don't we?"  I
mumbled, "I don't know". He has such a cute smile while saying little
small-talk things like that, but when I mumbled my reply he looked serious
for a moment and said, "Elliot, I was very shy as a teen, like you are now,
and it took a lot of effort to break out of that, but it was worth the
effort.  Would you like me to give you some of the reading material that
helped me with my shyness?"  I tried to speak up louder while saying, "No,
that's OK.  I'm not shy, I just have a cold" and my face got very red. I
looked down to stare at my sneakers as sweat broke out on my forehead and
my heart hammered in my chest.  I took short little breaths while biting on
my fingernail until I could breath normally again. Todd squeezed the back
of my
 neck and said, "If you change your mind, just say so. OK, Elliot?"  We
were headed back inside when I nodded my head 'yes', but I'm not sure Todd
saw me do it.

We worked in silence for three hours in the basement, getting dirty in the
process.  One time I was pulling a carton of files off a top shelf and I
slipped backward dropping the whole carton of files on the floor.  Somehow
Todd caught me before I hit the floor myself and when I realized I was
actually in his arms, leaning back against his chest, I sputtered and then
flailed away with my arms trying to stand on my own two feet. Todd held me
for a second or two with his chin resting on the top of my head, it felt
like a hug almost.  When I began to whine how much I sucked for dropping
the files and how I was worthless... he calmly said, "It's OK Elliot, just
take it easy buddy.  Here ya go" and he helped me stand up then. I started
to stutter an apology but he said, "No, no... You're doing a great job, I
almost dropped a box of these fucking thing a few minutes ago myself. Don't
worry about it".  Afterward I tried remembering how his arms felt
 wrapped around me, how his body felt against my back, but I'd been way too
embarrassed when it happened for me to notice those things so the feelings
are lost forever. Cleaning-up in the employees bathroom after finishing
that dirty job, Todd took off his shirt to wipe himself with damp paper
towels while cursing about having to do that basement job, "Glad we're done
wrestling with those filthy fucking files, Elliot.  God damn it, I'm
suppose to be management... well, I'm supervisory anyway, almost management
training and I still get stuck with every shit job in the place.  Get your
college degree, Elliot, or people will fuck all over you."  I didn't say
anything, but I did take my shirt off like Todd and wiped my chest with
damp paper towels too.  Neither of us had a single hair on our torso. Todd
looked at me after a bit and says, "You better start eating, dude!" I
blushed and then frowned... he smiled his warm smile and said, "Shit, and I
 thought I was skinny.  Look at you..." then he rubbed my back with one
hand and my chest with his other hand.  I blew out a lot of air and tried
to remember the feel of his hands...  awesome.  I stood totally still for
him and looked at our reflection in the mirror.  Todd had moved his hand to
the back of my neck now, under my ponytail, squeezing slightly.  His other
hand was on my shoulder as he stared at the side of my face. His lips moved
slightly and then he shook his head in an exaggerated way, as if to clear
it, and quietly said, "You have a very fine neck here, Elliot, very nice."
One more squeeze and he let go, let out a long breath, put his shirt back
on, combed his short hair, correcting the part in the process, and then in
a cheerful voice said, "Let me buy you lunch, Elliot... you did a fine job
this morning."

Todd brought us both Italian subs from the deli section of the store and we
ate them in the employee cafeteria.  We were the last two eating lunch
today so we had the small cafeteria to ourselves. He asked me the kind of
questions that kids my age usually get asked. How do you like school,
what's your favorite subject, do I participate in sports or any extra
curricular activities, do I have a girlfriend, and all the regular stuff.
I gave short answers while looking at my sub sandwich.  It's hard for me to
maintain any kind of eye contact.  Why does everyone make such a big deal
about eye contact anyway? After lunch I went back to my normal duties and
didn't see Todd again until it was almost time to go home.  He made a point
of finding me to tell me again what a big help I'd been earlier today.  He
told me I'd be with him in the "vegetable and fruit identification class"
tomorrow morning so I'm to study up on my veggies.  That was said like a
 joke and the whole time he talked to me he had his hand on the back of my
neck again, under my pony tail, like before.  It felt so good back there I
took long quiet inhales through my nose and then unconsciously leaned my
head back to feel a tiny bit of additional pressure from his hand, his
fingers are long and reached around to the other side of my skinny neck.
Todd didn't move the hand or mention that I'd moved my head, but when I
realized I was doing it my eyes stung from embarrassment and I blushed a
dark red and started coughing.  He patted my back lightly saying, "You OK
dude?  Take it easy Elliot, it's OK, man" ... he never mentioned anything
about me pushing my head back against his hand.  During my walk home I
tried to convince myself he hadn't noticed me doing that, but I couldn't.
He was just too nice to say anything about it.

Todd White is the nicest, kindest person I've ever met and once home, and
finding no one else there, I went into my bedroom and jerked-off.  I love
playing with my uncut dick and during today's wack-off I fantasized that
Todd was fucking me.  To simulate his cock I used half an English cucumber
encased in a lubed condom.  It was slow going getting it up inside
initially.  Sometimes I get on all fours which is a good way, and other
times, like today, I lay on my back with my knees up while inserting the
vegetable.  Its very sexy either way.  I needed to leave the cucumber up
there awhile today because it was fatter then I normally used, I needed to
wait until my asshole expanded... or is dilated the correct term?  Which
ever, it always does one of those things eventually.  Then I started slowly
pulling the cucumber out a couple of inches and pushing it back in a couple
of inches.  My cock got very hard as I continued doing this and I tried to
hold off
 stroking it, but sooner or later the urge becomes too strong to ignore and
I jerk myself off while blowing bursts of air out until I'm dizzy. Usually
I jerk-off staring at my foreskin, watching as it covers-up and uncovers
the wet head of my boner.  During todays jerk-off I was thinking about Todd
White fucking me and that was so hot I forgot to watch the sheath of my
foreskin going on and off the head of my boner. I really love that foreskin
and it takes a lot to divert my attention from it, but obviously Todd White
is a lot!  When I climaxed my eyes were shut tight thinking about Todd's
cock up my ass and, oh... the moan I heard myself make when I was shooting
out hard spurts of cum, three, then four spurts... ahhh, it felt so good I
blinked and blinked as shivers ran up and down my back. Fuck!  That was
awesome even though I hadn't watched the foreskin this time. What a cute
cap that skin forms over my soft cock's head under normal circumstances,
 and then when my boner grows bigger and bigger, getting all filled-up with
excited blood, my penis's head begins leaving the safety of that sheath of
foreskin to start peeking out at me more and more to see what's up, and
it's all so cool... I love it!  Not having me circumcised is the best thing
my parents ever did for me.

Laying on my bed after that excellent masturbation I thought about someone
really fucking me, not just a fantasy fuck, a real one, with their cock.
What would that feel like... and who might that someone be who eventually
takes my cherry, so ta speak?  It isn't as much fun fantasizing about
something if there isn't any chance the fantasy could ever happen so I
wasn't sure if my Todd fantasy counted... I assumed he was straight.
Although, after today I'd say maybe there is just the slightest long-shot
chance that Todd might be interested in me.  Am I fooling myself or did he
seem to like me?  I think he did. He touched me a lot and it was so awesome
when he had his hand on the back of my neck. I started stroking myself
again thinking about that long-shot possibility of me and Todd having gay
sex together.  I didn't care about our age difference any more... hell, he
almost looks my age.  The possibility that Todd White just might fuck me
had me
 playing with myself for another ten minutes. Now I was enjoying that
foreskin of mine immensely as it covered and uncovered the ever hardening
head of my five inch cock.  Thinking about Todd's hands, one on my bare
chest and the other flat against my back, those long fingers of his sending
sensations all through me, and the palm of his hand cupping my nipple got
me closer and closer to a second climax.  That memory got me stroking my
full-blown boner tighter and faster and, with my jaw clenched tightly, and
the new image in my mind of Todd's nine inch cock driving deeply up inside
me with every stroke my fist made on my cock... oh my god!  I finally let
out a squealing noise and spurted a splash of cum up from my nuts out onto
my T shirt and almost passed out from the way it made my body shudder and
shake. Holy shit! That was hot!  Normally I use a sweat sock to shoot my
cum into, but I lost all control both times today and the first shots went
on my
 bedspread mostly and this second little one just on my T shirt.  That
fantasy fuck by Todd had me wild with desire alright.  Wow, that was
awesome!  Hey, I know he's unlikely to have a nine inch cock, but it is my
fantasy, right?.  Oh man, today was a very good day for me.

Later at dinner everyone was accounted for, even Dad who got home early
from a road trip to Maine.  Mom had come in from her nursing duties with
Chinese take-out for our dinner and it seemed to me like an OK time at
dinner too.  I was in a good mood, for once, and actually started a
conversation by asking, "Ray, you guys still doing the informal band camp
practice at the high school?" The formal band camp is over, but some of the
section leaders, like one of the boys in Ray's posse, held informal
practice on the school's football field.  These marching band guys took
themselves as seriously as the guys on the football team.  Hearing my
question, Ray held his forkful of pork re-fried rice halfway between his
plate and his mouth and said, "Do you always have to be a screw-up Elliot?
I've asked you nicely about a million times to call me Raymond.  Can ya do
that?  Is that too complicated for your retard brain?"  I mumbled, "No,
it's not too
 complicated for me, but I just don't want to call you RayMOND, it's a
stupid name" and Mom goes, "It is not a stupid name.  It's your
grandfather's name."  Dad goes, "Can't you boys ever fucking get along?"
Mom yells, "Dean, for Christ sakes, don't talk like that in front of the
boys" and it went on like that for awhile.  So much for me trying to be in
a good mood, I shut it all out and enjoyed my General Mao spicy chicken,
and some of Ray's pork fried rice, and some kind of chicken and broccoli
thing too.  Hey, Chinese food is good!  I ate and thought about Todd White
and I had a nice dinner.  Mom, Dad, and Raymond talked all through dinner,
but I never heard my name mentioned again.  I heard a couple more f-bombs
though because Dad and Mom were drinking a lot of wine.  All in all, one of
our better dinners together.

Next day at work Todd was especially friendly to me at the morning meeting.
I even looked him in the eye when he said, "Oh, Hi!  My main man, Elliot.
Great to see ya today."  I held eye contact while he said that, but it took
all my concentration to do so and left me unable to so much as say "Good
morning". He didn't seem to mind, he pulled lightly on my ponytail while I
took the biggest breath I think I've ever taken, my face getting warm and
pink, my eyes feeling watery.  Todd patted my shoulder, shook his head
slightly, smiling at me again. These so called morning meetings only last
about three minutes while Todd passes out assignments and pumps us guys up,
and reminded us to always greet customers when they first come in the store
and always say, "have a nice day" when they're leaving... "smile guys" he
always says that too. I already knew my morning assignment today, me and
four other trainees would be studying produce with Todd until
 eleven-thirty this morning.  We'd be learning the names of weird fruits
and vegetables to prepare us for running a check-out cash register.  I felt
Todd and me were getting "tight" because a few times during the class he
talked to me directly, mentioning me by name, and he even made a few
references about what he and I were doing this time yesterday in the
basement, like an inside joke between Todd and me... it was cool.  He's
very nice to everyone, but it seemed he was a little bit nicer to me.  None
of the other boys appeared to care one way or the other that he was nicer
to me, but that's probably because they don't have a crush on Todd like I
do.

Our class was in the supervisor's room and when Todd was discussing English
cucumbers I got the most wicked boner sitting there at the small conference
table.  Todd asked me to pick out the English cucumber from the other types
of cucumbers and of course I knew which one was the English one.  I picked
up a long one while he, with his super hot body and wicked cute face and
his white perfect teeth, told us trainees all about it.  As he talked I was
thinking back to my jerk-off last night with a half an English cucumber up
my ass.  It was very much like the one I was holding in the air right now
too.  Thinking that thought, and with Todd right there in front of me, my
boner leaked and I had the kind of feeling I get just before I cum
sometimes.  I was tightening my groin muscle, enjoying my boner and at the
same time squinting my face at the sensation of it all, so much so Todd
stopped his lecture to ask, "You OK, Elliot?" Almost inaudibly I was like,
 "Huh?  What...? Oh, yeah, sorry... heh heh, I got a cramp in my leg."
Todd looked at me nodding his head, "Oh, OK" he said.  The tall kid next to
me yawned and looked at me in an annoyed manner while the grinning boy
across from me grinned at me stupidly. Fuck em, I told myself, and I
actually kind of smirked at Todd who smiled back and then went on to talk
about the next cucumber, the pickling cucumber.  I'd actually considered
the pickling cucumber to stick up my ass at one time, reason being they
have a lot of small bumps on them and it might add to the hot feeling up
there, but the reality of it is they're usually too short to fuck myself
with... I might lose my grip on the end of one and it could slide up inside
me and I'd need to go to the hospital to have it removed. That could be
embarrassing enough to have my face catch on fire.  I can just hear the
doctor, after peering up my ass with a flashlight, saying, "Son, you need
to chew your food better".  I laughed out loud at that thought, but managed
to turn it into a series of coughs.  Everyone stopped what they were doing
to gawk at me again.  I held up my hand as if to say, "It's OK... I'm
alright" Todd smirked at me this time and just continued with the
lecture... thank God!

Later, because I was kind of enjoying myself today, I even felt confident
enough to answer a question about red bliss potatoes.  Normally my shyness
would have necessitated me saying nothing even though I knew the answer.
After class we all went about our regular duties of bagging groceries at
the check-out counters, or stocking shelves, or gathering shopping carts in
the parking lot, or whatever the supervisors told us to do.  Near the end
of the day Todd came over to me as I was stocking canned soups and said,
"Hey Elliot, looking good dude. I was worried about you for a minute there
during our veggie class this morning, but it was good to see you rebound
with that later participation in class, especially your recitation on red
bliss potatoes.  That rocked!" and he chuckled to show he was just kidding
around.  I looked confused and mumbled, "Huh?"  If anyone else had said
that stuff to me I'd think they were making fun of me, but not Todd.  He
 had a way of always touching me, like holding onto my arm or my shoulder
or the back of my neck when talking and he was constantly looking right at
me.  For an instant I'd have eye contact with him and then immediately look
away or look down or something.  He was such a sincere man though that I
wanted to practice looking him in the eyes more.  He went on to say, "
Listen dude, I know you said you didn't need it, but I brought in some of
that material that helped me with my shyness for you anyway.  How about
taking it home and checking it out as a favor to me.  It's in my office,
you can pick it up after work... whenever."  In a low voice, not looking at
him, I said, "OK, Todd.  If you think it will help me with my cold" and he
laughed out loud, he really thought that was funny.  I had caught him by
surprise and his laughter made me smile so hard I almost laughed too.  Then
he squeezed the back of my neck again saying, "You're really something
 Elliot"... he pulled my ponytail again too before walking down the aisle
chuckling to himself. Jeez, can I fall in love this quickly I
wondered... Todd was like my hero or something.

After work I picked up a manilla envelope from Todd's desk.  It had my name
on it in his neat handwriting. Unfortunately he wasn't there.  I say
unfortunately because I like when it's just him and me, and also I wanted
to try out my idea of looking him in the eyes for a few seconds.  Opening
the envelope while walking down the steps I saw that the articles about
shyness were ones I'd already read on-line. I'd read them, I just wasn't
ready to put the information to use yet.  You needed to badly want to
over-come shyness before tackling new and scary territory like what was
described in that material.  With Todd as my inspiration though, this just
might be a turning point for me, maybe I'm ready to try conquering my
shyness like I conquered stuttering.  From what I've read you're not born
shy, you're born with a temperament.  The temperament that me and many shy
people are born with is one of being inhibited.  We're a bit inhibited and
because of that there's this predisposition for shyness depending a great
deal on an individual's environment.  That's a simplistic description, but
it made sense to me.  My environment while growing-up wasn't an encouraging
one, to put it mildly. It was tense and caused me to stutter early in life,
and the criticism I received as a result of that caused further lack of
self esteem which made me self conscious, which caused anxiety, and worry
and negative thoughts in general, which made me think I sucked and was
useless.  Because of all those negative attributes I talked hardly at all
and I blushed a lot when someone talked to me because I wasn't ready to
talk with them, and that made me stay apart from the group a little, and
when I had to be with a group, I found I couldn't look anyone in the eye
because that seemed to draw attention to myself which made me have sweaty
palms along with an increased heart rate and dry mouth... and I could go
on, but you get the
 idea. Oh, it's a lot of fun being shy. It's a blast!  Not
really...................


to be continued.........  (Chapter two "The Friend" coming shortly)

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com